The past was reconstructed and repeopled; the present was deplored, and, alas! abused not a little. Mrs. Cathcart had known Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Disraeli—whom she couldn't abide!—Mr. Dickens, Mr. Thackeray, Lord Tennyson, Mr. Bright, and Garibaldi. Comparisons are invidious, but where are the persons of that type nowadays?
Lord Warlock entirely agreed with the goddaughter of Bean. Alas, the world had fallen upon evil days indeed!
"But I think, ma'am, you have a devilish sensible granddaughter, if I may say so."
Grandmamma hoped her granddaughter was sensible, although to her mind it seemed that she had not married very prudently.
No brains, certainly, agreed my lord—speaking of the young chap, of course—but perhaps a young chap was just as well without 'em, provided his income was large enough to supply the deficiency.
However, it was more a Question of Principle to the mind of Grandmamma. And a Question of Principle is, of course, a great matter. The stage and the peerage had so little in common that they were best kept apart. Not, to be sure, that Grandmamma was blind to the worldly advantages, but then, to one who had played Lady Macbeth to John Peter Kendall, worldly advantages were not everything.
