Mrs Lupton was glad to think that her daughters would never dream of answering her in that rude way. “I should have thought you could have stayed at home for one day,” she remarked. “And have you nothing quieter to wear than that frock?”
“No, nothing.”
“You must have a black one.”
“All right,” said Stella equably. “If she happens to think of it, I daresay mother will buy one for me.”
Mrs Lupton sat very straight in her chair. “The least said about your mother's expedition to town the better,” she announced.
Guy looked up, a spark of anger in his eyes. “Quite!” he said with a good deal of emphasis.
Janet, who hated people to quarrel, hurried into speech. “Aunt Zoë has such wonderful taste!” she said. “I'm afraid I never know what to buy, but of course I don't care for clothes, much. Or jewellery either. Isn't it funny? Because Agnes—”
“Not funny: tragic,” said Stella, with a smile that took the sting out of her words. “You look heathenish in that hat too.”
“Oh, Stella, you are awful! Do I really?”
“Yes,” said Guy viciously.