miles at her could mean? On the other hand, how had she offended Mrs.
Cockayne? Happily, Mrs. Rowe was on Lucy's side; for it had pleased Mrs.
Cockayne to show her social superiority by extravagant coldness and
formality whenever she had occasion to address "the landlady." One thing
Mrs. Cockayne admitted she could NOT understand--viz., Why Jane
the servant took so much upon herself with her mistress; and what all
the mystery was about a Mr. Charles, who seemed to be a dark shadow,
kept somewhere as far as possible in the background of the house.

Mrs. Rowe, on her side, was amply revenged for Mrs. Cockayne's airs of
superiority, when Mr. Cockayne arrived in the company of Mr. John Catt,
the betrothed love of Theodosia.

"You must be mad, Mr. Cockayne," was his wife's greeting directly they
were alone--"raving mad to bring that vulgar fellow John Catt with you.
Didn't you get my letters?"

"I did, my dear; and they brought me over, and John Catt with me. I, at
least, intend to act an honourable part."

"Perhaps you will explain yourself, Mr. Cockayne."

"I have travelled from Clapham for that purpose. Who the devil is this
Viscount de Gars, to begin with?"

Mrs. Cockayne drew herself up to her full height, and looked through her
husband--or meant to look through him--but just then he was not to be
cowed even by Mrs. Cockayne.

With provoking coolness and deliberation over the exact relative
quantities, Mr. Cockayne mixed himself a glass of grog from his brandy
flask; while he proceeded to inform his wife that Mr. John Catt, who had
been engaged, with their full consent, to their daughter, had, at his
instigation, travelled to Paris to understand what all this ridiculous
twaddle about Viscount de Gars meant.

"You will spoil everything," Mrs. Cockayne gasped, "as usual."

"I don't know, madam, that I am in the habit of spoiling anything; but
be very certain of this, that I shall not stand by and see my daughter
make a fool of a young man of undoubted integrity and of excellent
prospects, for the sake of one of these foreign adventurers who swarm
wherever foolish Englishwomen wake their appearance. I beg you will say
nothing, but let me observe for myself, and leave the young people to
come to an understanding by themselves."

In common with many Englishmen of Timothy Cockayne's and John Catt's
class, Theodosia's father at once concluded that the poor polite little
Vicomte de Gars was an adventurer, and that hi