“But I never heard it said that Dickens had written anything objectionable.”
“Oh, objectionable! Well, not exactly objectionable in the sense you mean,” answered Mrs. Dumaresq; “that might not matter so much, but he deals with people who are not in our set.”
“It says in to-day’s paper that the Princess drove over yesterday to see the motor cars,” said Mrs. Whitley suddenly to Mrs. Dumaresq.
Now Mrs. Whitley spoke indistinctly, and with a lisp, which no doubt accounted for Mrs. Dumaresq’s unexpected reply, for that lady said,
“Oh, yes, to be sure; so she did. They are dear old friends of ours. Such charming people!”
Mrs. Whitley looked astonished. “I’m afraid you don’t quite understand me,” she said; “I spoke of the motor cars.”
“Oh, ah! Yes, to be sure,” said Mrs. Dumaresq, slightly embarrassed. “The motor cars—yes, I have seen them.”
There was a long pause, during which the lady regained her self-possession.
“Have you heard from your sister, Miss Semaphore?” asked Mrs. Dumaresq, after a time, as she ate her soup.
“Yes, thank you.”