Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys wore a low-necked gown!
It was a shock; but it passed. She was wonderfully pretty, all admitted, in her gown of a rich amber satin draped with delicate folds of black lace; around her white throat a diamond necklace glistened. How well I can remember her as she stood there toying with a button of her glove! And how mean and dowdy we all looked beside this glittering vision!
The Honourable Frederic Augustus Hythe Goodwyn-Sandys meanwhile stared at us all calmly but firmly through his eye-glass. I saw young Horatio Saunders meet that gaze and sink into his carpet slippers. I saw Mr. Moggridge frown terribly, and cross his arms. Sam Buzza came forward—
"Ah, how d'ye do? How d'ye do, Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys? Looking round for the governor? He's been in bed for a week."
I think we all envied Samuel Buzza at this moment.
"Ah, nothing serious, I hope?" drawled Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys.
"Serious, ha, ha! Haven't you heard—"
"Sam, dear!" expostulated Mrs. Buzza.
"All right, mother. He can't hear," and Sam plunged into the story.
The ice was broken. In a few moments a whist party was made up to include the Honourable Frederic, and Miss Limpenny breathed more freely. Mr. Moggridge was led up by Sam, and introduced.