Lady Farley laughed. "I think our conversation is greatly affected by our clothes," she remarked. "I can never administer a social snub properly unless I am wearing either fur or diamonds; and I couldn't possibly pray in a hat, or without a veil."
"I quite agree with you, Caroline," said Lady Esdaile; "I cannot bear to see a married woman of my age in church in a hat. And yet the unmarried ones look all right. Isn't it funny that a little thing like getting married should make all the difference between wearing a hat or a bonnet on Sunday?"
"Very funny," replied Lady Farley, "but great effects do result from small causes, Constance."
"They certainly do; I came upon an instance of that only the other day. The Featherstonehaughs' cook died suddenly, and so Mabel Featherstonehaugh was sent off straight to the Ellisons', as anything of that kind in a house is so unpleasant, you know."
"Of course it is," remarked Lady Farley, with her satirical smile.
Lady Esdaile continued: "Willie Philipson happened to be staying at the Ellisons' at the same time, and was so taken with Mabel that I shouldn't be surprised if he made her an offer. It would be an awfully good match for her; and yet if the Featherstonehaughs' cook had not happened to die just then, she and Willie might never have met each other."
Paul laughed; this speech was so exactly like Lady Esdaile and its flippancy did not irritate him at all. But he was conscious that if Isabel had said such a thing he would have felt more angry than he could express. Isabel also was conscious of this, and resented it. She argued that if Paul really cared for her, he would approve of everything she said and did; Paul, on the contrary, argued that because he really cared for her, it was agony to him when she said and did the things that he did not approve of; consequently (in speaking of a woman the word consequently is applicable here—had it been a man that was referred to, such an expression as strange to say would have been better)—consequently Isabel ran full tilt against all Paul's prejudices and theories.
"Aunt Caroline is right in saying that our conversation depends upon our clothes," she said, "mine is entirely guided by them."
"Oh! no, it isn't," ejaculated Paul, "you are talking nonsense."
"Pardon me, my dear sir, I am not; I must know better than you do what are the sources of my own wit. Have you never noticed that I am subdued in black, poetical in blue, innocent in green, and brilliant in yellow?"