Part 7

Well, please yourself and you please your dearest friend, as Lil's dad used to say.

FARNCOMBE.

Thank you-- thank you very much.

MRS. UPJOHN.

ROPER.

I did; told him I wanted to talk business with you.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Business? [Resuming her inspection of the trinkets.] This is a 'andsome thing Mr. Grimwood's sent 'er.

ROPER.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Now wot 'ave I done!

ROPER.

Well, you might spread yourself a little over young Farncombe.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Spread myself! Why should I?

ROPER.

Lord Farncombe!

MRS. UPJOHN.

I treat 'em all alike; so does Lil. 'E's not the first title we've 'ad 'ere, not by a dozen.

ROPER.

No, but damn it all--! I beg your pardon----

MRS. UPJOHN.

ROPER.

This chap's in love with her.

MRS. UPJOHN.

Oh, they're all in love with 'er; or 'ave been, one time or another.

ROPER.

Yes, but they're not all Farncombes and they're not all marrying men. I'm prepared to bet my boots that if Lil and young Farncombe could be thrown together----! [Sitting on the settee in front of the writing-table as MRS. UPJOHN rises and comes forward.] Here! Do talk it over.