I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. "Mercy on us! Well, I thought their manners quite out o' the common. ‘Because,’ said Lady Bicknacre in the confidential manner of all matrons when passing on a tidbit of scandal, ‘Nicholas married against his father’s wishes and ran away. From then on he was Ruth's dog. He is an awfully good sort— and now he has come to me to help him if I can.
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