"Why—she was a milliner, and took in the late lord, who was an idiot.—
Voila tout!"
"Perfectly satisfactory," replied I.
"Or, short and sweet, as Lady Babbleton would say," replied Lady
Harriett, laughing.
"In antithesis to her daughters, who are long and sour."
"Oh, you satirist!" said the affected Lady Harriett (who was only three removes better than the Cheltenham countess); "but tell me, how long have you been at Cheltenham?"
"About four hours and a half!"
"Then you don't know any of the lions here?"
"None."
"Well, let me dispatch Lady Babbleton, and I'll then devote myself to being your nomenclator."
We walked up to Lady Babbleton, who had already disposed of her daughters, and was sitting in solitary dignity at the end of the room.