She fondled the great dog's head a moment, then got up suddenly, and drew the blind down to shut out the glare of the sun, which was beginning to lay a hot yellow patch on the floor.
'He thought that,' she said to herself—'he really thought that.'
She walked up and down the room for a moment or two, then went to a table on which stood her despatch-box, opened it, and looked through a pile of letters that lay inside. One of these she took out and read through. At moments it seemed to amuse her, at moments her smile was struck from her face. When she had finished reading it, she paused a few seconds with it in her hands, as if weighing it. Then, with a sudden gesture of impatience, she tore it in half, and threw the pieces into the grate. Then, with the quick relief of a decision made and acted upon, she whistled to her dog, and went into her bedroom to make her toilet. Resplendency was part of her programme, and with the consciousness of a busy hour before her, she told her butler—Bilton's liberal interpretation of her requirements had included a manservant—that if Mr. Harold Bilton called, he was to be asked to wait.
The 'room to sleep in' was, if anything, more satisfactory than the 'room to digest her chop in.' Like all proper bedrooms, there was a bed in it, a large table, winking with silver, in the window, and very little else. By the bedside there was a bearskin; in front of the dressing-table in the window there was a rug; otherwise the room was carpetless and parquetted, and devoid of furniture and dust. Dark-green curtains hung by the window, dark-green blinds could be drawn across the window. The bathroom beyond held the hopeless but necessary accessories of dressing. Her maid was waiting for her—Parkinson by name—and it was not Dorothy who came to be dressed, but Puck.
'Parkinson,' she said, 'once upon a time there was a very fascinating woman called X.'
'Lor'm!' said Parkinson.
'Quite so. And there was a very fascinating young man called Y. He wanted to marry her, and wrote to say so. But meantime another man called Z also wanted to—to marry her. So she said "Yes," because he gave her a great deal of money. But she kept Y's proposal—I don't know why, except because it was so funny. And so now I suppose she is Mrs. Z. That's all.'
'Lor'm!' said Parkinson. 'Will you wear your shiffong and lace dress?'
'Yes, shiffong. Parkinson, supposing I suddenly burst into tears, what would you think?'
'I should think you wasn't quite well'm.'