'I'm an old flame of dear Mel's.

I knew him when he was an apprentice in London.

Now, wasn't it odd?
Your mother--I suppose I must call you "my lady" ?' The Countess breathed a tender 'Spare me,' with a smile that added, 'among friends!' Mrs.Wishaw resumed: 'Your mother was an old flame of this gentleman's, I found out.

So there were two old flames, and I couldn't help thinking! But I was so glad to have seen dear Mel once more: 'Ah!' sighed the Countess.
'He was always a martial-looking man, and laid out, he was quite imposing.

I declare, I cried so, as it reminded me of when I couldn't have him, for he had nothing but his legs and arms--and I married Wishaw.