“She drinks nothing else,” said Mrs. Davenant.
“That accounts for her complexion,” said Lady Bell. “No, it doesn’t! If I drank all the dairies in London dry, I shouldn’t get such milk and roses on my cheeks.”
“Don’t turn her head,” murmured Mrs. Davenant, under her breath.
Lady Bell laughed.
“My dear Mrs. Davenant, it is just what she wants! There isn’t a spark of vanity in her composition; she isn’t quite a woman, for no woman is without vanity. Look at her, as grave and stern as a judge!” and she touched Una’s arm with her sunshade.
Una started—she had been wondering whether Jack would be there outside, on the drag, and was listening for his voice amongst those which came floating through the open window.
Trembling inwardly she followed Lady Bell out.
The four horses were champing and pawing impatiently.
The drag was nearly full, and, for a moment, Una saw only a confused group of women in dainty morning dresses, and of men in white flannel and cheviot. A second glance convinced her that Jack was not there.
As they appeared on the steps the laughter and voices ceased, and a well-bred glance of curiosity was turned upon her.