“I d-don’t call it civil to push a person into a p-pond,” objected Horatia. She caught sight of the clock. “Oh, I said I would d-drive out with Louisa! Only look at the time!” She prepared to depart. “There is one thing that makes me very c-cross,” she said, frowning at him. “It was odious of you to l-let me win the second game!”
He laughed, and caught her hands, pulling her towards him. “Horry, shall we consign Louisa to the devil?” he suggested.
“N-no, I must go,” Horatia answered, suddenly shy. “B-besides, she hasn’t seen my landaulet!”
The landaulet, the possession of which was enough to set any lady in the forefront of fashion, was glitteringly bright and new, having only just come from the coach-maker. Lady Louisa duly admired it, pronounced it to be extremely comfortable, and was so obliging as to say that she had not in the least minded being kept waiting over half an hour. Since she had shopping to do in Bond Street the coachman was instructed to drive there first, and the two ladies leaned back against the cushions and embarked on a discussion concerning the proper kind of ribbons to wear with a ball dress of green Italian taffeta for which Lady Louisa had just purchased two ells of stuff. By the time the rival merits of ribbons a Vinstant, a Vattention, au soupir de Venus, and a great many others had been fully weighed, the carriage drew up outside a fashionable milliner’s, and the ladies went in to select a branch of artificial flowers which Lady Louisa hoped to make bearable a hat she had bought two days ago, and quite detested already.
It was naturally impossible for Horatia to visit a milliner without purchasing something on her own account, so when the flowers had been selected, she tried on a number of hats, and bought finally an enormous confection composed chiefly of stiff muslin in Trianon grey, which was labelled, not without reason, “ Grandes Pretentions’. There was a collet monte gauze scarf in the same delectable shade of grey, so she bought that as well. A cap a la glaneuse caught her eye as she was about toJeave the shop, but she decided not to add that to her purchases, Lady Louisa having had the presence of mind to declare that it made her look rather prim.
Horatia was just a little nervous of her sister-in-law, whom she suspected of disapproving of her, but Lady Louisa was behaving quite delightfully, and had not suggested by so much as a look that she thought it extravagant of Horry to buy that hat. She had even said that it was ravishing, so when they stepped into the landaulet again Horatia was feeling more friendly towards Louisa than she ever remembered to have felt before.
This was precisely what Lady Louisa wanted. As the carriage moved forward she pointed her furled sunshade at the coachman’s back, and said: “My dear, how much does he hear of what one says?”
“Oh, n-nothing!” Horatia assured her. “He is very d-deaf, you know. D-didn’t you notice how I have to shout at him?”
“I fear it would take me an age to grow used to an open carriage,” sighed Lady Louisa. “But if he is really deaf—my dear, there was something I wanted to say to you. That is—no, I don’t want to say it at all, but I think I ought to, for I know Rule never would.”
Horatia’s smile faded. “Indeed?” she said.