“Hats for these young ladies, Madam? Yes, Madam.”
“A hat for this young lady,” said Lady Amelia Vibart, severely.
She looked disapprovingly at Miss Pamela Pounce. She disapproved on principle of anyone whom she considered her inferior, and when a person belonging to the working classes was presuming enough, not only to have good looks, but to make the most of them, Lady Amelia considered it a direct attack on the prerogatives of those destined by Providence to hold a higher station. Only that she had been recommended to Madame Mirabel’s shop as the one place positively, in the whole town, where any self-respecting woman of fashion could get herself a hat to be called a mode, she would have walked out of the showroom at the mere sight of this creature, so tall and self-possessed, so white and ruddy, clothed in garments that fitted an indecently fine figure to positively scandalous nicety, a creature who moved as if she were the condescending party, and carried taper hands each side of her waist-ribbon, not exactly akimbo, but with an air—yes, in very truth, an air of independence.
Miss Pounce looked at her visitors reflectively; a high-nosed, haughty, short, stout lady, flanked on either side by two tall daughters, the one beautiful, astoundingly so, a perfect miracle of loveliness; and the other—plain. No doubt about that; pleasant, bright-eyed, witty-looking, but plain.
“A hat for Miss?” said the milliner, her glance resting upon the less favoured but unmistakably the elder damsel.
The high-nosed lady tossed her head.
“Certainly not,” she said with a glare. Here she pushed the beauty forward, “For this young lady.”
She looked round for a chair, let herself subside on a velvet stool, obsequiously advanced by Polly Popple, and began to talk very volubly and pompously.
“I have been told that you have very good taste. What can you suggest for my daughter? Perhaps I had better tell you I am Lady Amelia Vibart. The Duchess of Queensberry has recommended you. I am sure that I shall find that you deserve her kind recommendation. I trust that you will. It is not my custom to come to shops myself, I generally expect to be served in my own house, but the Duchess advised me—this is Miss Jane Vibart. I think you must have heard of Miss Jane Vibart.”