"Of course I know they were made in Parliament," said Lucy, almost in
tears.

"If Miss Morris means that Burke's greatest efforts were not made in
Parliament, that his speech to the electors of Bristol, for instance, and
his opening address on the trial of Warren Hastings, were, upon the whole,
superior to----"

"I didn't mean anything at all," said Lucy.

"Lord Fawn is trying to help you, my dear," said Lady Fawn.

"I don't want to be helped," said Lucy. "I only mean that I thought Mr.
Greystock's speech as good as it could possibly be. There wasn't a word in
it that didn't seem to me to be just what it ought to be. I do think that
they are ill-treating that poor Indian prince, and I am very glad that
somebody has had the courage to get up and say so."

No doubt it would have been better that Lucy should have held her tongue.
Had she simply been upholding against an opponent a political speaker
whose speech she had read with pleasure, she might have held her own in
the argument against the whole Fawn family. She was a favourite with them
all, and even the Under-Secretary would not have been hard upon her. But
there had been more than this for poor Lucy to do. Her heart was so truly
concerned in the matter that she could not refrain herself from resenting
an attack on the man she loved. She had allowed herself to be carried into
superlatives, and had almost been uncourteous to Lord Fawn. "My dear,"
said Lady Fawn, "we won't say anything more upon the subject." Lord Fawn
took up a book. Lady Fawn busied herself in her knitting. Lydia assumed a