Mrs.Hare, whom surprise at this sudden meeting had hitherto silenced, and who longed to shape into elegant periphrasis the common adage, "Talk of," etc., now once more opened her budget.

She tattled on, first to one, then to the other, then to all, till she had tattled herself out of breath; and then the orthodox half-hour was expired, and the bell was rung, and the carriage ordered, and Mrs.Hare rose to depart.
"Do just come to the door, Mrs.Merton," said she, "and look at my pony-phaeton, it is so pretty; Lady Raby admires it so much; you ought to have just such another." As she spoke, she favoured Mrs.Merton with a significant glance, that said, as plainly as glance could say, "I have something to communicate." Mrs.Merton took the hint, and followed the good lady out of the room.
"Do you know, my dear Mrs.Merton," said Mrs.Hare, in a whisper, when they were safe in the billiard-room, that interposed between the apartment they had left and the hall; "do you know whether Lord Vargrave and Mr.Maltravers are very good friends ?" "No, indeed; why do you ask ?" "Oh, because when I was speaking to Lord Vargrave about him, he shook his head; and really I don't remember what his lordship said, but he seemed to speak as if there was a little soreness.

And then he inquired very anxiously if Mr.Maltravers was much at the rectory; and looked discomposed when he found you were such near neighbours.

You'll excuse me, you know--ha, ha! but we're such old friends!--and if Lord Vargrave is coming to stay here, it might be unpleasant to meet--you'll excuse _me_.

I took the liberty to tell him he need not be jealous of Mr.
Maltravers--ha, ha!--not a marrying man at all.