“If a beauty like Letitia Tarnower couldn't interest Mairelon, and a brilliant wizard like Renee D'Auber hadn't attracted him in all the years they'd known one another, what chance did she, Kim, have?”

“Kim was more than a little inclined to snarl at him, but in the past few days she had learned that snarling at Mairelon did little good. He simply smiled and corrected her grammar.”

“Really, Agatha, you might have told me.”"Told you what?” Mairelon said. “That my ward was once a street thief? I didn’t think it was a secret.”“A street thief?” Letitia wrinkled her nose and looked at Kim with disfavor. “How horrid.”“I think it is the most romantic story I have ever heard”, Miss Matthews said with conviction.”

“And on top of everything, Mairelon hadn't even said she looked nice.”

“The Marquis of Harsfield Lord Franton, arrived after you left." Lady Endall said with some satisfaction. "He said he wished to be presented to Kim, and was quite dissapointed to find she was not there.""Harsfield? He must be nearly eighty." Mairelon said, frowning. "What does he want with Kim?""No, no, Richard, you're thinking of the fourth Marquis of Harsfield," Lady Wendall said. "He died last year; it is the fifth Marquis who was asking after Kim. He is quite a young gentleman--not much above twenty, I think. He was the grandson of the previous marquis.""Oh. I expect that's all right, then." Mairelon said, but he continued to frown.”

“Master Richard!” Hunch’s voice was not loud, but it expressed volumes of scandalized disapproval.Mairelon paused and looked up. “What is it?”“You ain’t going to just—” Hunch stopped and looked at Kim. “Not with ‘er standing there!”“Oh, is that all that’s bothering you?” Mairelon looked at Kim and grinned. “Turn your back, child; you’re offending Hunch’s proprieties.”Kim flushed, as much from surprise as embarrassment, and turned away. “I ain’t no child,” she muttered under her breath.“Under the circumstances, that’s so much the worse,” Mairelon replied cheerfully.”

“You don’t understand,” Mairelon said dully. “Kim doesn’t want to marry a toff.”Was that what was bothering him? “Well, of all the bacon-brained, sapskulled, squirish, buffle-headed nod cocks!” Kim said with as much indignation as she could muster. “I was talking about the marquis, not about you!”Mairelon’s eyes kindled. “Then you would?”“You’ve whiddled it,” Kim informed him.As he kissed her again, she heard Mrs. Lowe murmur, “Mind your language, Kim,” and Shoreham say in an amused tone, “Yes, Your Grace, I believe thatwas an affirmative answer.”