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Anne, must not it be our Mr Elliot? my father's next heir? Pray sir," turning to the waiter, "did not you hear, did not his servant say whether he belonged to the Kellynch family?" "No, ma'am, he did not mention no particular family; but he said his master was a very rich gentleman, and would be a baronight some day." "There! you see!" cried Mary in an ecstasy, "just as I said!
"Fleur's too young," he said. "Oh! no, sir. We're awfully old nowadays. My Dad seems to me a perfect babe; his thinking apparatus hasn't turned a hair. But he's a Baronight, of course; that keeps him back." "Baronight," repeated Soames; "what may that be?" "Bart, sir. I shall be a Bart some day. But I shall live it down, you know." "Go away and live this down," said Soames.
"Fleur's too young," he said. "Oh! no, sir. We're awfully old nowadays. My Dad seems to me a perfect babe; his thinking apparatus hasn't turned a hair. But he's a Baronight, of course; that keeps him back." "Baronight," repeated Soames; "what may that be?" "Bart, sir. I shall be a Bart some day. But I shall live it down, you know." "Go away and live this down," said Soames.
"I've heard the name times and often," he said, "though I never set eyes upon the gentleman. William Carley has been bailiff at the Grange these twenty years, and I don't believe as the owner has ever come nigh the place in all that time. Let me see, it's a common name enough, though the gentleman is a baronight. Forster that's it Sir something Forster." "Sir David?" cried Gilbert.
Anne, must not it be our Mr Elliot? my father's next heir? Pray sir," turning to the waiter, "did not you hear, did not his servant say whether he belonged to the Kellynch family?" "No, ma'am, he did not mention no particular family; but he said his master was a very rich gentleman, and would be a baronight some day." "There! you see!" cried Mary in an ecstasy, "just as I said!
"Fleur's too young," he said. "Oh! no, sir. We're awfully old nowadays. My dad seems to me a perfect babe; his thinking apparatus hasn't turned a hair. But he's a Baronight, of course; that keeps him back." "Baronight," repeated Soames; "what may that be?" "Bart, sir. I shall be a Bart some day. But I shall live it down, you know." "Go away and live this down," said Soames.
"No, not a lord. SIR Something; Sir means Knight." "And Baronight, too." "No." "Yes, it does." "What did he want in there?" "No good, you may depend on it." "Did he do it on purpose?" "Burn himself on purpose!" "I don't mean himself, I mean the vestry." "Is he dreadful to look at?" "Dreadful!" "Not about the face, though?" "No, no, not so much about the face. Don't anybody know him?"
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