‘My dear, I couldn’t say that to him.’

’Then I will.  To go and be buried down in that place for a whole year with no one near us but the rusty old bishop and Mr Carbury, who is rustier still.  I won’t stand it.  There are some sort of things that one ought not to stand.  If you go down I shall stay up with the Primeros.  Mrs Primero would have me I know.  It wouldn’t be nice of course.  I don’t like the Primeros.  I hate the Primeros.  Oh yes;—­it’s quite true; I know that as well as you, Sophia; they are vulgar; but not half so vulgar, mamma, as your friend Madame Melmotte.’

‘That’s ill-natured, Georgiana...