Mrs. Mountstuart admired herself as each one trotted forth in turn characteristically, with one exception unaware of the aid which was being rendered to a distressed damsel wretchedly incapable of decent hypocrisy. Her intrepid lead had shown her hand to the colonel and drawn the enemy at a blow.
Sir Willoughby's "in fine", however, did not please her: still less did his lackadaisical Lothario-like bowing and smiling to Miss Dale: and he perceived it and was hurt. For how, carrying his tremendous load, was he to compete with these unhandicapped men in the game of nonsense she had such a fondness for starting at a table? He was further annoyed to hear Miss Eleanor and Miss Isabel Patterne agree together that "caricature" was the final word of the definition. Relatives should know better than to deliver these awards to us in public.
"Well?" quoth Lady Busshe, expressive of stupefaction at the strange dust she had raised.
"Are they on view, Miss Middleton?" inquired Lady Culmer.
"There's a regiment of us on view and ready for inspection." Colonel De
Craye bowed to her, but she would not be foiled.
"Miss Middleton's admirers are always on view." said he.
"Are they to be seen?" said Lady Busshe.
Clara made her face a question, with a laudable smoothness.
"The wedding-presents," Lady Culmer explained.
"No."