"Oh, that will be nice," said Valentia. "It must be looking lovely now. Did Romer say anything else of any importance?"
"He never says much, as you know, important or not! He's very like his poor father, who really used to sit opposite to me for hours at a time without opening his lips."
"A strong, silent man," murmured Val sympathetically. "I know so well what you mean."
"Indeed you don't," snapped Mrs. Wyburn. "He was the weakest creature—morally, I mean, poor dear—that ever breathed. He was a very tall, fine man, but yet any pretty woman could turn him round her little finger! It was his most marked characteristic."
"Fancy! Devoted to you, of course. Romer's often told me."
"I'm sure he hasn't. What can Romer know of my domestic troubles, as he was just four when he lost his poor father? But however that may be, I do hope, Valentia, you will wear warm, sensible clothes for the garden. I never quite like the idea of your sitting out on that little terrace late in the evening with practically nothing on your shoulders. People should be so careful of the night air."
"How thoughtful of you, Mrs. Wyburn! But I have a wrap—I never sit out without a wrap."
"Pink chiffon, I suppose?"
"Now how did you know? You seem to have second sight!"
"Yes; I guessed as much. Very candidly, dear Valentia, I don't approve of pink chiffon. But we women of an elder generation are never listened to, though our advice is worth hearing, I can tell you."