"I heard a report—oh, only a report—that Mr. Van Buren is a great admirer of your sister's; indeed, it was even said that they were going to be engaged."
This was really a sore subject to Valentia. Her temper began to waver slightly. It had been a very pet scheme of hers, and only Daphne herself had defeated it by refusing the millionaire. But of course she knew better than to tell Mrs. Wyburn that.
"Oh yes, you heard that. I believe he does admire her very much. But I hope I'm not going to lose Daphne yet."
Something in her expression warned Mrs. Wyburn, who said affectionately—
"Well, there's plenty of time; she's so young. I don't believe in girls marrying till they're sensible women and know something of housekeeping, and are fitted to deal with their servants."
"I hope you haven't been having any more trouble with yours lately?"
"Indeed I have! I had just sent for the housemaid to give her notice because she never dusts the lustres properly, when she turned round and gave it—notice, I mean—to me!"
"What a blessing! It saved you the trouble."
"On the contrary, if you knew anything of domestics, Valentia, you would see that it put me in a most awkward position—most awkward; and now I shall have to live at Mrs. Hunt's!"
"To live at Mrs. Hunt's?" repeated Val, as if stupefied. "Why, you're not going to leave your charming house? And who is Mrs. Hunt?—an old friend of yours?"