and you only receive them as a duty, and do not care twopence for them, is it not a great waste of time and trouble?"
"I don't think it would do to quarrel with them all," says Paul, laughing, "but we will keep as clear of them as we can. You won't be always here; we shall go to town in May, for you to be presented."
"Presented!" I repeat, stopping short, and staring at him; "do you mean it?"
"Of course I do, child; why not?"
"Why not?" I repeat again; "oh! the very idea! why—why—" I say, going off into a hearty roar, "the Queen would laugh in my face! Oh dear! oh dear! only think of me, in a tail three yards long; me, in white feathers; me, walking out of a room backwards—why, I should turn a somersault as sure as fate!" And I go off again into a louder explosion than the first. "Papa would never get over it," I say, wiping my eyes; "he always called me a peacock, and if I went to court, I should be—be one; tail, feathers, strut, and all!"
"Nell," says Paul gravely, "I am afraid you will not make a very dignified Mrs. Vasher."
"Do you mind my being so noisy?" I ask, suddenly sobered. "Would you rather I were quieter? Only I am so happy, you know, and I never was quiet over that! And if you really mean me to go to court, Paul (I check myself on the edge of another outburst), I will promise you not to smile even, or turn a somersault—if I can help it; I will be as sober as a judge."
"Will you?" he asks; "I don't think I should know my Nell if she moved slowly and spoke seldom."
"Did you ever think your wife would ever be a bit like me dear?"
"Did you ever think your husband would be a bit like me, Nell?"
