“You rebellious spirit! You mutinous child! Tell me this, Lavinia. If in violation of your mother’s sentiments, you had condescended to allow yourself to be patronized by the Boffins, and if you had come from those halls of slavery⁠—”

“That’s mere nonsense, Ma,” said Lavinia.

“How!” exclaimed Mrs. Wilfer, with sublime severity.

“Halls of slavery, Ma, is mere stuff and nonsense,” returned the unmoved Irrepressible.

“I say, presumptuous child, if you had come from the neighbourhood of Portland Place, bending under the yoke of patronage and attended by its domestics in glittering garb to visit me, do you think my deep-seated feelings could have been expressed in looks?”

“All I think about it, is,” returned Lavinia, “that I should wish them expressed to the right person.”