Yes, mamma?
Mrs. Stonehay.
Come here, child. [To Weaver.] What is the subject?
Weaver.
The Break of Day, ma’am. The black cloud underneath is departin’ Night—the nood figure reclinin’ on it is Early Morning.
Mrs. Stonehay.
Ugh! Never mind, Irene.
Irene.
Mamma, do you remember a girl who was at school at Helmstead during my last term—a little thing named Brudenell?
Mrs. Stonehay.