ajor-domo on
the divan of an antechamber, pale, rigid, and inscrutable.

"I have it at heart to tell you," Rowland said, "that if you consider my
friend Hudson"--

Mrs. Light gave a toss of her head and hands. "Oh, it 's not that. She
told me last night to bother her no longer with Hudson, Hudson! She did
n't care a button for Hudson. I almost wish she did; then perhaps one
might understand it. But she does n't care for anything in the wide
world, except to do her own hard, wicked will, and to crush me and shame
me with her cruelty."

"Ah, then," said Rowland, "I am as much at sea as you, and my presence
here is an impertinence. I should like to say three words to Miss Light
on my own account. But I must absolutely and inexorably decline to urge
the cause of Prince Casamassima. This is simply impossible."

Mrs. Light burst into angry tears. "Because the poor boy is a prince,
eh? because he 's of a great family, and has an income of millions, eh?
That 's why you grudge him and hate him. I knew there were vulgar people
of that way of feeling, but I did n't expect it of you. Make an effort,
Mr. Mallet; rise to the occasion; forgive the poor fellow his splendor.
Be just, be reasonable! It 's not his fault, and it 's not mine. He 's
the best, the kindest young man in the world, and the most correct and
moral and virtuous! If he were standing here in rags, I would say it all
the same. The man first--the money afterwards: that was always my motto,
and always will be. What do you take me for? Do you suppose I would
give Christina to a vicious person? do you suppose I would sacrifice my
precious child, little comfort as I have in her, to a man against whose
character one word could be breathed? Casamassima is only too good, he
's a saint of saints, he 's stupidly good! There is n't such another
in the length and breadth of Europe. What he has been through in this
house, not a common peasant would endure. Christina has treated him as
you would n't treat a dog. He has been insulted, outraged, persecuted!
He has been driven hither and thither till he did n't know where he
was. He has stood there where you stand--there, with his name and his
millions and his devotion--as white as your handkerchief, with hot tears
in his eyes, and me ready to go down on my knees to him and say, 'My own
sweet prince, I could kiss the ground you tread on, but it is n't decent
that I should allow you to enter my house and expose yourself to these
ho