'Really I must congratulate you on your latest, Sarah,' remarked Lady Blixworth, who was taking tea with Mrs. Bonfill. 'Trix Trevalla is carrying everything before her. The Glentorlys have had her to meet Lord Farringham, and he was delighted. The men adore her, and they do say women like her. All done in six weeks! You're a genius!'
Mrs. Bonfill made a deprecatory gesture of a Non nobis order. Her friend insisted amiably:
'Oh, yes, you are. You choose so well. You never make a mistake. Now do tell me what's going to happen. Does Mortimer Mervyn mean it? Of course she wouldn't hesitate.'
Mrs. Bonfill looked at her volatile friend with a good-humoured distrust.
'When you congratulate me, Viola,' she said, 'I generally expect to hear that something has gone wrong.'
'Oh, you believe what you're told about me,' the accused lady murmured plaintively.
'It's experience,' persisted Mrs. Bonfill. 'Have you anything that you think I sha'n't like to tell me about Trix Trevalla?'
'I don't suppose you'll dislike it, but I should. Need she drive in the park with Mrs. Fricker?' Her smile contradicted the regret of her tone, as she spread her hands out in affected surprise and appeal.
'Mrs. Fricker's a very decent sort of woman, Viola. You have a prejudice against her.'