“What ladies do you mean, my dear?” asked the farmer of his daughter.
“Grand ladies—countesses and viscountesses and the rest. Missy knows heaps of them—don't you, Missy?”
“Well, a good few,” said Missy, with some show of modesty.
“To be sure you would,” murmured Mr. Tees-dale, adding, as his eyes glistened, “and yet you'll come and stay with the likes of us! You aren't too proud to take us as you find us—you aren't above drinking cocoa with your supper.”
“What do the lords and ladies drink with their suppers?” asked Arabella, as Missy smiled and blushed.
But the farmer cried, “Their dinners, she means; I'll warrant they dine late every night o' their lives.”
Missy nodded to this.
“But what do they drink with their dinners?” repeated Arabella.
“Oh, champagne.”
“What else?”