'Oh! but, Lady Scatcherd, you shouldn't think of such a thing.'
'Shouldn't I now?'
'Oh, no; for your husband's sake you should be proud of it. He gained great honour, you know.'
'Ah, well,' said she, sighing after a short pause; 'if you think it will do him any good, of course I'll put up with it. And then I know Louis would be mad if I talked of such a thing. But, Miss Thorne, dear, a woman like me don't like to have to be made a fool of all the days of her life if she can help it.'
'But, Lady Scatcherd,' said Mary, when this question of the title had been duly settled, and her ladyship made to understand that she must bear the burden for the rest of her life. 'but, Lady Scatcherd, you were speaking of Sir Roger's sister; what became of her?'
'Oh, she did very well at last, as Sir Roger did himself; but in early life she was very unfortunate—just at the time of my marriage with dear Roger—,' and then, just as she was about to commence so much as she knew of the history of Mary Scatcherd, she remembered that the author of her sister-in-law's misery had been a Thorne, a brother of the doctor; and, therefore, as she presumed, a relative of her guest; and suddenly she became mute.
'Well,' said Mary; 'just as you were married, Lady Scatcherd?'
Poor Lady Scatcherd had very little worldly knowledge, and did not in the least know how to turn the conversation or escape from the trouble into which she had fallen. All manner of reflections began to crowd upon her. In her early days she had known very little of the Thornes, nor had she thought much of them since, except as regarded her friend the doctor; but at this moment she began for the first time to remember that she had never heard of more than two brothers in the family. Who then could have been Mary's father? She felt at once that it would be improper for her to say anything as to Henry Thorne's terrible faults and sudden fate;—improper, also, to say more about Mary Scatcherd; but she was quite unable to drop the matter otherwise than abruptly, and with a start.
'She was very unfortunate, you say, Lady Scatcherd?'
'Yes, Miss Thorne; Mary, I mean—never mind me—I shall do it in time. Yes, she was; but now I think of it, I had better say nothing more about it. There are reasons, and I ought not to have spoken of it. You won't be provoked with me, will you?'
Mary assured her that she would not be provoked, and of course asked no more questions about Mary Scatcherd; nor did
