He
ordered her to leave the room.
The peace-making doctor interfered again: "My dear lord, let me beg you
will not be too hard on the young woman." He turned to Fanny, with an
effort to look indulgent, which ended in the reappearance of his
rascally smile. "Thank you, my dear, for your proposal," he said; "I
will let you know if we accept it, to-morrow."
Fanny's unforgiving master pointed to the door; she thanked Mr.
Vimpany, and went out. Lord Harry eyed his friend in angry amazement.
"Are you mad?" he asked.
"Tell me something first," the doctor rejoined. "Is there any English
blood in your family?"
Lord Harry answered with a burst of patriotic feeling: "I regret to say
my family is adulterated in that manner. My grandmother was an
Englishwoman."
Mr. Vimpany received this extract from the page of family history with
a coolness all his own.
"It's a relief to hear that," he said. "You may be capable (by the
grandmother's side) of swallowing a dose of sound English sense. I can
but try, at any rate. That woman is too bold and too clever to be
treated like an ordinary servant--I incline to believe that she is a
spy in the employment of your wife. Whether I am right or wrong in this
latter case, the one way I can see of paring the cat's claws is to turn
her into a nurse.
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