“No!”

“The Middlesex Club!”

“There! it is just as Mrs. Tallboys said; you will do nothing but laugh at us, or else talk sentiment about our refining you.  Now, I want to be free to amuse myself.”

“I don’t think those trifling considerations will be great impediments in your way,” said Lady Tyrrell in her blandest tone.  “Is that actually the carriage?  Thank you, Mrs. Tallboys.  This is good-bye, I believe.  I am sorry there has not been more time for a fuller exposition to-night.”

“There would have been, but I never was so interrupted,” said Mrs. Tallboys in an undertone, with a displeased look at Jenny at the other end of the room.

Declamation was evidently more the Muse’s forte than argument, but her aside was an aside, and that of the jockey friend was not.  “So you waited for us to give your part of the lecture, Miss Moy?”

“Of course.  What’s the use of talking to a set of women and parsons, who are just the same?”

Poor Herbert’s indignant flush infinitely amused the party who were cloaking in the hall.  “Poor Gussie; her tongue runs fast,” said Mrs. Duncombe.

“Emancipated!” said Jenny.  “Good-bye, Mrs. Duncombe.  Please let us be educated up to our privileges before we get them.”

“A Parthian shot, Jenny,” said Julius, as they gave her a homeward lift in the carriage.  “You proved yourself the fittest memberess for the future parliament to-night.”

“To be elected by the women and parsons,” said Jenny, with little chuckle of fun.  “Poor Herbert!”

“I only wish that girl was a man that I might horsewhip her,” the clerical sentiment growled out from Herbert’s corner of the carriage.  “Degradation of her sex!  She’s a standing one!”

CHAPTER XX Vivienne

Of all the old women that ever I saw, Sweet bad luck to my mother in law.—­Irish Song

The Parliamentary Session had reached the stage that is ended by no power save that of grouse, and the streets were full of vans fantastically decorated with baths, chairs, bedsteads, and nursery gear.

Cecil could see two before different house-doors as she sat behind her muslin curtains, looking as fresh and healthful as ever, and scarcely more matronly, except that her air of self-assertion had become more easy and less aggressive now that she was undisputed mistress of the house in London.

There was no concern on her part that she was not the mother of either of the two latest scions of the house of Charnock.  Certainly she did not like to be outdone by Rosamond; but then it was only a girl, and she could afford to wait for the son and heir; indeed, she did not yet desire him at the cost of all the distinguished and intellectual society, the concerts, soirees, and lectures that his non-arrival left her free to enjoy.  The other son and heir interested her nearly, for he was her half-brother.