Diana nodded to the man.
"We will come, Thomas." Then as soon as he had withdrawn, she stared again at her aunt. "Lady O'Hara! But why?"
"I suppose she felt she must call after Sir Miles had been here so often. But why, for goodness' sake, must she choose the one day that the drawing-room is all untidy? Drat again, I say!"
Diana was powdering her little nose, and anxiously looking to see if the tear-stains had quite vanished.
"'Tis not untidy, Aunt Betty. Oh, I am quite eager to see her—I think she must be charming, from all Sir Miles said. Do hurry, aunt!"
Miss Betty stuck a pin into her hair and smoothed out her dress.
"And me in this old taffeta!" she grumbled.
Diana swirled round, her own peach-coloured silk rustling fashionably.
"Never mind, dear—you look very sweet. But do be quick!" Miss Betty suffered herself to be led to the door.
"'Tis all very fine for you, my love, with a new gown fresh on to-day! Will you just take a look at my petticoat, though?"