Here, mamma.
Dowager.
[Embracing Imogen.] My favorite niece! I have just learned your decision over the breakfast-table. I was eating cold grouse at the moment; I thought I should have choked.
Imogen.
I hope you are satisfied, aunt.
Dowager.
Thoroughly. I feel now that I shall die, a great many years hence, a contented woman. Effie.
Lady Euphemia Vibart.
Yes, mamma?
Dowager.