CHAPTER XXI 283
" Her name is Reed, sir-- Mrs. Reed."
" Reed of Gateshead? There was a Reed of Gateshead, a magistrate." " It is his widow, sir." " And what have you to do with her? How do you know her?" " Mr. Reed was my uncle-- my mother ' s brother."
" The deuce he was! You never told me that before: you always said you had no relations."
" None that would own me, sir. Mr. Reed is dead, and his wife cast me off." " Why?" " Because I was poor, and burdensome, and she disliked me."
" But Reed left children?-- you must have cousins? Sir George Lynn was talking of a Reed of Gateshead yesterday, who, he said, was one of the veriest rascals on town; and Ingram was mentioning a Georgiana Reed of the same place, who was much admired for her beauty a season or two ago in London."
" John Reed is dead, too, sir: he ruined himself and half-ruined his family, and is supposed to have committed suicide. The news so shocked his mother that it brought on an apoplectic attack."
" And what good can you do her? Nonsense, Jane! I would never think of running a hundred miles to see an old lady who will, perhaps, be dead before you reach her: besides, you say she cast you off."
" Yes, sir, but that is long ago; and when her circumstances were very different: I could not be easy to neglect her wishes now."