’I ’m come to see you on business, my lady, or I shouldn’t have troubled you.’

‘Malice?’

’You ‘ll see I don’t bear any, my lady.’

’Ah! if you had only sworn roundly twenty-five years ago, what a much younger man you would have been! and a brave capital old friend whom I should not have missed all that time.’

‘Come!’ cried Old Tom, varying his eyes rapidly between her ladyship’s face and the floor, ‘you acknowledge I had reason to.’

‘Mais, cela va sans dire.’

‘Cobblers’ sons ain’t scholars, my lady.’

’And are not all in the habit of throwing their fathers in our teeth, I hope!’

Old Tom wriggled in his chair.  ’Well, my lady, I’m not going to make a fool of myself at my time o’ life.  Needn’t be alarmed now.  You’ve got the bell-rope handy and a husband on the premises.’

Lady Jocelyn smiled, stood up, and went to him.  ‘I like an honest fist,’ she said, taking his.  ’We ’re not going to be doubtful friends, and we won’t snap and snarl.  That’s for people who’re independent of wigs, Tom.  I find, for my part, that a little grey on the top of any head cools the temper amazingly.  I used to be rather hot once.’

‘You could be peppery, my lady.’

’Now I’m cool, Tom, and so must you be; or, if you fight, it must be in my cause, as you did when you thrashed that saucy young carter.  Do you remember?’

‘If you’ll sit ye down, my lady, I’ll just tell you what I’m come for,’ said Old Tom, who plainly showed that he did remember, and was alarmingly softened by her ladyship’s retention of the incident.

Lady Jocelyn returned to her place.

‘You’ve got a marriageable daughter, my lady?’

‘I suppose we may call her so,’ said Lady Jocelyn, with a composed glance at the ceiling.

‘’Gaged to be married to any young chap?’

‘You must put the question to her, Tom.’

‘Ha!  I don’t want to see her.’

At this Lady Jocelyn looked slightly relieved.  Old Tom continued.

’Happen to have got a little money—­not so much as many a lord’s got, I dare say; such as ’tis, there ’tis.  Young fellow I know wants a wife, and he shall have best part of it.  Will that suit ye, my lady?’

Lady Jocelyn folded her hands.  ’Certainly; I’ve no objection.  What it has to do with me I can’t perceive.’

‘Ahem!’ went Old Tom.  ’It won’t hurt your daughter to be married now, will it?’

‘Oh! my daughter is the destined bride of your “young fellow,"’ said Lady Jocelyn.  ‘Is that how it’s to be?’

’She’—­Old Tom cleared his throat ’she won’t marry a lord, my lady; but she—­’hem—­if she don’t mind that—­’ll have a deuced sight more hard cash than many lord’s son ’d give her, and a young fellow for a husband, sound in wind and limb, good bone and muscle, speaks grammar and two or three languages, and—­’

‘Stop!’ cried Lady Jocelyn.  ’I hope this is not a prize young man?  If he belongs, at his age, to the unco quid, I refuse to take him for a son-in-law, and I think Rose will, too.’