The odious eyeglass was turned upon Dicky again. He, to avoid it, glanced aside at Miss Diana. He found Miss Diana less unpleasant than her mother, but attractive only by contrast. She was a tall woman, handsome but somewhat haggard, with a face saved indeed from peevishness by its air of distinction, but scornful and discontented. She had been riding, and her long, close habit became her well, as did her wide-brimmed hat, severely trimmed with a bow of black ribbon and a single ostrich feather.
"Diana," said Lady Caroline, but without removing her stony stare, "the child favours his mother."
"Indeed!" the girl answered indifferently. "I never met her."
"Oliver has her portrait somewhere, I believe. We must get him to show it to us. A toast in her day, and quite notably good-looking—though after a style I abominate." She turned to Mrs. Harry and explained: "One of your helpless clinging women. In my experience that sort does incomparably the worst mischief."
"Oh, hush, please!" murmured Mrs. Harry.
But Lady Caroline came of a family addicted to speaking its thoughts aloud. "Going to sea, is he? Well, on the whole Oliver couldn't do better. The boy's position here must be undesirable in many ways; and at sea a lad stands on his own feet—eh, Mr.—I did not catch your name?"
"Hanmer, ma'am."
"Well, and isn't it so?"
"Not altogether, ma'am," stammered Mr. Hanmer. "If ever your ladyship had been in the Navy—"
"God bless the man!" Lady Caroline interjected.