“There’s a portrait of her in the music-room,” said Georgie, “by Sigismund. It looks like nothing at all——”
“Of course everybody has a right to have their hair shingled,” said Mrs. Boucher, “whatever their age, and there’s no law to prevent you.”
Daisy rapped the table.
“We were considering as to whether we should ask Mrs. Shuttleworth to join the committee,” she said.
“She sang too, beautifully, on Sunday night,” said Georgie, “and what fun we had dancing. Oh, and Lucia asked for the Princess’s book to sign her name in, and the only book she had brought was a book of cross-word puzzles.”
“No!” said both ladies together.
“She did, because Olga’s parlour-maid told Foljambe, and——”
“Well I never!” said Daisy. “That served her out. Did she write Lucia across, and Pepino down?”
“I’m sure I’ve nothing to say against her,” said Mrs. Boucher, “but people usually get what they deserve. Certainly let us have the Museum insured if that’s the right thing to do, and as for asking Olga to be on the committee, why we settled that hours ago, and I have nothing more to say about the spit. Have the spit if you like, but I would no more think of insuring it, than insuring a cold in the head. I’ve as much use for one as the other. All that stuff too about the gracious chatelaine at The Hurst in the Evening Gazette! My husband read it, and what he said was ‘Faugh!’ ‘Tush’ and ‘faugh,’ was what he said.”
Public opinion was beginning to boil up again about Lucia, and Georgie intervened.