We ascended the steps of the white cake without any undignified haste, and Mrs. Soames formally presented me to Mesdames Lakin, Belmont and Potter, as “My friend Miss Lingard.” We all bowed and smiled at one another, and fresh tea was ordered from a bearded butler.
As my chaperon was exchanging civilities with the ladies already established, Mrs. Wolfe and her companion joined us. Mrs. Wolfe was a tall elegant woman, with magnificent black eyes and an intensely animated expression.
“This,” she announced, with a comprehensive wave of her hand, “is my cousin Miss Payne. Sally Payne, who, after her arduous labours in globe-trotting, has come to enjoy a domestic holiday with me.”
Mrs. Belmont raised her glasses and considered the new-comer with an air of grave appraisement. A little woman with reddish hair, sharp features and a pale clever face; she wore a well-cut white linen, a Panama hat, and carried in a white gloved hand a gold-handled sunshade.
Miss Payne bowed all round with self-possessed grace, seated herself, and began to take off her gloves.
“Just arrived?” said Mrs. Potter brusquely.
“Yes, only yesterday morning.”
Then she glanced at me and said, “We came up from Wadi in the same train. You were the girl in that delightful blue silk dust cloak; it made me so envious. When you tire of it, please let me have the first offer?”
“Yes, certainly,” I answered, in the same key, “but I do not propose to part with it yet.”
Mrs. Potter’s swift glance gave me to understand she would deal with me presently, but that just now she was particularly interested in Miss Payne, and she once more addressed her: