"Thanks," replied Miss Dexter. "That means that my appearance is not prepossessing. I've always known that, and it doesn't bother me a bit."
Miss Phipp laughed. "It is all coming back to me," she said. "At first, except that your face is much the same, I should hardly have recognised you for the little girl I used to be so fond of. But you haven't altered, Margaret. You are just as direct as ever. I believe I first taught you to be direct."
"If you did, you had easy ground to work on," replied Miss Dexter.
"I suppose I had. But aren't you doing anything, Margaret? You're not just spending your life like other rich people—going about and amusing yourself? You weren't like that as a child."
"I'm not rich," returned Miss Dexter. "My father died too young to make a lot of money. And as for doing something, I'm companion to Lady George Dubec."
Miss Phipp was visibly taken aback. "Oh!" she exclaimed; and after a pause said, "I'm sorry. Still, if you're obliged to earn your living, I should have thought you might have done something more useful than going out as a companion to a lady of fashion."
Miss Dexter coloured and then laughed. "It's all coming back to me too," she said. "That's what you used to call talking straight, and we used to call Janet's manners. If it is any comfort to you to know it, I don't have to earn my own living—I only said I wasn't rich. I live with Virginia Dubec because I love her, and I share some of the expenses. I'll tell you how much I pay if you like."
"Oh, don't be silly," said Miss Phipp. "You said you were her companion, and I took that to mean what anybody would. Then you're not doing anything, and I'm sorry for it. However, we needn't quarrel about that. What are these people like I'm going to? I've seen Mrs. Clinton, and on the whole I like her."
"Well, I don't," said Miss Dexter, "and if I weren't such a fool as to follow Virginia about wherever she wants to go to, as if she were a baby, I shouldn't go within a mile of Mrs. Clinton. I don't mind telling you, as you're bound to find out for yourself directly you get to Kencote, that Virginia is going to marry Captain Clinton, the eldest son, and the whole family have hitherto turned up their stupid noses at her. Now he seems to have persuaded them to inspect her and see whether she'll do, after all. She's worth a hundred of the whole lot of them put together, except, perhaps, Captain Clinton himself, who has behaved fairly well. No, I'll do him justice—he's behaved quite well. He's all right. But Mrs. Clinton—well, you say you like her, but you'll see; as for Mr. Clinton, he's the most odious, purse-proud, blood-proud, ignorant old pig you'll find anywhere."
"H'm!'" commented Miss Phipp drily. "Seems a nice sort of family I'm going to. What's that youth travelling with your Lady Virginia, or whatever her name is—what's he like?"