'Oh! how unladylike! I didn't mean really picked up! I meant
allegorically--like in the Bible.'

'Oh! only like in the Bible,' said Hazel disappointedly. 'I thought you
meant summat _real_.'

'Oh! You'll bring down my grey hairs,' wailed Mrs. Prowde.

An actress was bad, but an infidel! 'That I should live to hear it--in
my own villa, with my own soda cake on the cake-dish--and my own son,'
she added dramatically, as Albert entered, 'coming in to have his
God-fearing heart broken!'

This embarrassed Albert, for it was true, though the cause assigned was
not.

'What's Hazel been up to?' he queried.

The affection beneath his heavy pleasantry strengthened his mother in
her resolve that Hazel should not stay the night.

'There's a magic-lantern lecture on tonight, Hazel,' he said. 'Like to
come?'

'Ah! I should that.'

'You can't walk home at that time of night,' said Mrs. Prowde. 'In
fact, you ought to start now.'