Volume Three--Chapter Ten.
Mrs Hamps as a Young Man.
On the Saturday afternoon of the week following the Jubilee, Edwin and Mrs Hamps were sunning themselves in the garden, when Janet’s face and shoulders appeared suddenly at the other side of the wall. At the sight of Mrs Hamps she seemed startled and intimidated, and she bowed somewhat more ceremoniously than usual.
“Good afternoon!”
Then Mrs Hamps returned the bow with superb extravagance, like an Oriental monarch who is determined to outvie magnificently the gifts of another. Mrs Hamps became conscious of the whole of her body and of every article of her summer apparel, and nothing of it all was allowed to escape from contributing to the completeness of the bow. She bridled. She tossed proudly as it were against the bit. And the rich ruins of her handsomeness adopted new and softer lines in the overpowering sickly blandishment of a smile. Thus she always greeted any merely formal acquaintance whom she considered to be above herself in status—provided, of course, that the acquaintance had done nothing to offend her.
“Good afternoon, Miss Orgreave!”
Reluctantly she permitted her features to relax from the full effort of the smile; but they might not abandon it entirely.
“I thought Maggie was there,” said Janet.
“She was, a minute ago,” Edwin answered. “She’s just gone in to father. She’ll be out directly. Do you want her?”