“Quite wrong.”
“Well, then, Dr Kenn has been preaching against buckram, and you ladies have all been sending him a roundrobin, saying, ‘This is a hard doctrine; who can bear it?’”
“For shame!” said Lucy, adjusting her little mouth gravely. “It is rather dull of you not to guess my news, because it is about something I mentioned to you not very long ago.”
“But you have mentioned many things to me not long ago. Does your feminine tyranny require that when you say the thing you mean is one of several things, I should know it immediately by that mark?”
“Yes, I know you think I am silly.”
“I think you are perfectly charming.”
“And my silliness is part of my charm?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But I know you like women to be rather insipid. Philip Wakem betrayed you; he said so one day when you were not here.”
“Oh, I know Phil is fierce on that point; he makes it quite a personal matter. I think he must be love-sick for some unknown lady,—some exalted Beatrice whom he met abroad.”