Mary ran up to them eagerly, and exclaimed at the beautiful shot blue and white silk.
“Paris fashions?” said Ethel carelessly.
“Yes; but I don’t parade my own dresses here,” said Flora.
“Whose are they then? Your commissions, Meta?”
“No!” and Meta laughed heartily.
“Your French maid’s then?” said Ethel. “I dare say she dresses quite as well; and the things are too really pretty and simple for an English maid’s taste.”
“I am glad you like them,” said Flora maliciously. “Now, please to be good.”
“Who are they for then?” said Ethel, beginning to be frightened.
“For a young lady, whose brother has got the Newdigate prize, and who is going to Oxford.”
“Me! Those! But I have not got four backs,” as Ethel saw Meta in fits of laughing, and Flora making affirmative signs. Mary gave a ponderous spring of ecstasy.