human
I shall never hold up my head again! And what a horrible triumph for Anne Hautton! I am always the victim--always! said Lady Marabout, that day two months, when the last guest at Cecil Ormsby's wedding déjeûner had rolled away from the house.
gpt
A girl who might have married anybody, Philip; she refused twenty offers this season--she did, indeed! It is heart-breaking, say what you like; you needn't laugh, it _is_. Why did I offer them Fernditton for this month, you say, if I didn't countenance the alliance? Nonsense! that is nothing to the purpose. Of course, I seemed to countenance it to a degree, for Cecil's sake, and I admire Chandos Cheveley, I confess (at least I should do, if I didn't dislike his class on principle); but, say what you like, Philip, it is the most terrible thing that could have happened for _me_. Those men _ought_ to be labelled, or muzzled, or done something with, and not be let loose on society as they are. He has a noble nature, you say. I don't say anything against his nature! She worships him? Well, I know she does. What is that to the point? He will make her happy? I am sure he will. He has the gentlest way with her possible. But how does that console _me_? Think what _you_ feel when an outsider, as you call it, beats all the favorites, upsets all your betting-books, and carries off the Doncaster Cup, and then realize, if you've any humanity in you, what _we_ feel under such a trial as this is to me! Only to think what Anne Hautton will always say!
human
QU'EN DIRA-T-ON?
gpt
Laugh at her, mother,