MURIEL.

I do--I mean, I'm getting to. [_Defiantly._] At any rate, I am proud of him.

SOPHY.

Proud!

MURIEL.

Certainly--proud that he has mended his ways for my sake.

SOPHY.

[_Between tears and anger._] Mended his ways! with those eyes of his!

MURIEL.

[_Looking down upon_ SOPHY, _wonderingly._] His eyes? why, they are considered his best feature.

SOPHY.

_I_ never saw wickeder eyes. All my girls say the same.

MURIEL.

[_With rising indignation._] I am sure you have never detected Lord Quex looking at anybody in a way he should not.

SOPHY.

Oh, I admit he has always behaved in a gentlemanly manner towards me and my girls.

MURIEL.

[_Haughtily._ Towards you and your--! Sophy, pray remember Lord Quex's rank.

SOPHY.

[_In hot scorn._] His rank! ha! do you think his lordship has ever let _that_ interfere--?

[_She checks herself, finding_ MURIEL _staring at her._

MURIEL.

[_In horror._] Sophy!

SOPHY.

[_Discomposed--rising._] Er--if I'm to do anything to your nails--

[_As_ SOPHY _is moving towards the manicure-table,_ MURIEL _intercepts her._

MURIEL.

You are surely not suggesting that Lord Quex has ever descended--?

SOPHY.

[_Hastily._] No, no, no. [_Brushing past_ MURIEL _and seating herself before the screen-chair_.] Come; they'll all be here directly.

MURIEL.

[_Sitting in the screen-chair._] Sophy, you have heard some story--

SOPHY.

[_Examining_ MURIEL'S _hands._] A little varnishing is all you need to-day.

MURIEL.

You shall tell me!

SOPHY.

[_Proceeding with her work methodically._] It's nothing much; I'm sorry I--

MURIEL.

[_Imperatively._] Sophy!

SOPHY.

[_Reluctantly._] Oh, well--well, when I was at Mrs. Beaupoint's in Grosvenor Street--

MURIEL.

Yes?

SOPHY.

A Lady Pumphrey came to stay there with a goodish-looking maid--Edith Smith her name was--

MURIEL.

Never mind her name!

SOPHY.

And they'd lately met Lord Quex in a country house in Worcestershire.

Well, he had kissed _her_--Smith admitted it.