The young gentleman had recourse as a _pis aller_ to his
mamma. He invaded her bedroom, and besought her piteously to play at
battledoor. That lady, sighing deeply at being taken from her dress,
consented. Her soul not being in it, she played very badly. Her cub
did not fail to tell her so. "Why, I can keep up a hundred with Mr.
Dodd," said he.
"Oh, we all know Mr. Dodd is perfection," said the lady with a sneer.
She was piqued with David. He had gone and left her in a brutal way,
to make his apologies to Lucy.
"No, he is not," said Reginald. "I have found him out. He is as unjust
as the rest of them."
"Dear me! and, pray, what has he done?"
"I will tell you, mamma, if you will promise not to tell papa, because
he told me not to listen, and I didn't listen, mamma, because, you
know, a gentleman always keeps his word; but they talked so loud the
words would come into my ear; I could not keep them out. Mamma, are
there any naughty ladies here?"
"No, my dear."
"Then what did papa mean, warning Mr. Dodd against one?"
Mrs. Bazalgette began to listen as he wished.
"Oh, he called her all the names. He said she was a statue of
flirtation."
"Who? Lucy?"
"Lucy? no! the naughty lady--the one that had twelve husbands. He kept
warning him, and warning him, and then Mr. Dodd and papa they began to
quarrel almost, because Mr. Dodd said the naughty lady was quite
young, and papa said she was ever so old. Mr. Dodd said she was
twenty-one.
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