"Yes; dear mamma has such refined feelings."
"Yes," said her hostess, absently, for she heard a messenger arrive, a tap at the door of the dining-room, and knew the message was for the temporary master of the house, an answer to his telegram, and wished the Marchmonts back to their own quarters, so that the complete little trio were alone; but she is forgetting Madame Grundy, so says:
"I believe you intend wintering in Italy."
"Yes, we have rented Rose Cottage to a friend of Mrs. Haughton's, a
Major Delrose, late of the —th Lancers."
"Oh, it's your cottage he has rented," said Lady Esmondet, awaking to interest.
"Yes; Major Delrose took an awful fancy to it, and Mrs. Haughton, dear thing, took a good deal of trouble in making our arrangements; neither Miranda or myself are strong."
"Strong! What an odious word to apply to us. It smells of milk and milk-maids; we would be uninteresting without our pet ailments."
"Excuse me, my child, I know a zephyr could waft us away."
"Pull-backs would be rather in the way of the onward movement of the zephyr, don't you think?" inquired Vaura, ironically, and glancing at the figure of the speaker, who with her daughter wore, at the instigation of Mrs. Haughton (who laughed with her men friends at the objects they were), skin-tight chamois under-clothing, and with only one narrow underskirt beneath the dress, express the figure so that nothing is left to imagination.
"Ah! Miss Vernon, don't be severe; Mrs. Haughton, dear thing, says you have no pet sins, but if you will only wear tights, I shall send in my own name for them," she said coaxingly.