'I suppose Sarah's trained you too well. Look at Sarah! It wasn't forced on her; she needn't have had it! She would have it, and she loves it.'
'There's a great deal to love in it,' said Trix, looking round her.
'Everything, my dear, except one single fandango! Now I love a fandango. So I go about looking as if I'd never heard of one.' She turned to Trix. 'I shouldn't wonder if you loved a fandango too?'
'I haven't had many,' said Trix, it must be owned with regret.
'No, and you won't now,' remarked Lady Blixworth.
There was no use in keeping up the fiction of a secret.
'I shall have to be very good indeed,' smiled Trix.
'Oh, it's just splendid for you, of course!' The natural woman and the trained one were at issue in Lady Blixworth's heart. 'And I daresay one might love Mortimer. Don't be hurt—I'm only speculating.'
'He's everything that's good, and distinguished, and kind.'
Lady Blixworth looked round cautiously, smiled at Trix, and remarked with the utmost apparent irrelevance, 'Fol-de-rol!'