Miss Caroline said she would rather die than display such weakness and she stepped into the cab which groaned under her weight. Another fainter groan accompanied Sophia’s entrance and Rose and Henrietta, tapping their satin shoes on the pavement, heard sounds of bickering. Sophia had forgotten her handkerchief and Susan fled once more into the house.
The cabman growled his disapproval from the box. “I’ve another party to fetch,” he said. “And how many of you’s going?”
“Only four,” Henrietta said sweetly, “and we shan’t be a minute.”
“I’ve been waiting ten already,” said the man.
The handkerchief was handed into the darkness of the cab and Rose and Henrietta followed. “Mind my toes,” Caroline said. “Susan, tell that disagreeable fellow to drive on.”
They had not far to go, but the man did not hurry his horse. Other cabs passed them on the road, motor-cars whizzed by.
“We shall be dreadfully late,” Henrietta sighed.
“I am always late for balls,” Caroline said calmly.
Rose, leaning back in her corner, could see Henrietta’s profile against the window-pane. Her lips were parted, she leaned forward eagerly. “We shall miss a dance,” she murmured.
Caroline coughed. “Oh, dear,” Sophia moaned. “Caroline, you should be in bed.”