Miss Mackenzie did not answer the appeal that was made to her. She was watching Mr Rubb narrowly, and knew that he was making a fool of himself. She could perceive also that Miss Todd would not spare him. She could forgive Mr Rubb for being a fool. She could forgive him for not knowing the meaning of words, for being vulgar and assuming; but she could hardly bring herself to forgive him in that he did so as her friend, and as the guest whom she had brought thither. She did not declare to herself that she would have nothing more to do with him, because he was an ass; but she almost did come to this conclusion, lest he should make her appear to be an ass also.

“What is the gentleman’s name?” asked Mr Maguire, who, under the protection of the urn, was able to whisper into Miss Mackenzie’s ear.

“Rubb,” said she.

“Oh, Rubb; and he comes from London?”

“He is my brother’s partner in business,” said Miss Mackenzie.

“Oh, indeed. A very worthy man, no doubt. Is he staying with—with you, Miss Mackenzie?”

Then Miss Mackenzie had to explain that Mr Rubb was not staying with her,—that he had come down about business, and that he was staying at some inn.

“An excellent man of business; I’m sure,” said Mr Maguire. “By-the-bye, Miss Mackenzie, if it be not improper to ask, have you any share in the business?”

Miss Mackenzie explained that she had no share in the business; and then blundered on, saying how Mr Rubb had come down to Littlebath about money transactions between her and her brother.

“Oh, indeed,” said Mr Maguire; and before he had done, he knew very well that Mr Rubb had borrowed money of Miss Mackenzie.

“Now, Mrs Fuzzybell, what are we to do?” said Miss Todd, as soon as the tea-things were gone.

“We shall do very well,” said Mrs Fuzzybell; “we’ll have a little conversation.”

“If we could all banish decorum, like Mr Rubb, and amuse ourselves, wouldn’t it be nice? I quite agree with you, Mr Rubb; decorum is a great bore; it prevents our playing cards to-night.”

“As for cards, I never play cards myself,” said Mr Rubb.

“Then, when I throw decorum overboard, it sha’n’t be in company with you, Mr Rubb.”

“We were always taught to think that cards were objectionable.”

“You were told they were the devil’s books, I suppose,” said Miss Todd.

“Mother always objected to have them in the house,” said Mr Rubb.

“Your mother was quite right,” said Mr Maguire; “and I hope that you will never forget or neglect your parent’s precepts. I’m not meaning to judge you, Miss Todd—”

“But that’s just what you are meaning to do, Mr Maguire.”

“Not at all; very far from it. We’ve all got our wickednesses and imperfections.”

“No, no, not you, Mr Maguire. Mrs Fuzzybell, you don’t think that Mr Maguire has any wickednesses and imperfections?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Mrs Fuzzybell, tossing her head.