Belinda said hopefully: “You did say that you wished you might give me the purple silk dress,” she suggested.
He could not help laughing. “No, no, that is not what I meant!”
She sighed, and the corners of her mouth drooped tragically. “No one ever gives me a purple silk dress,” she mourned, a sob in her voice.
The Duke had never had occasion to bestow much thought on female attire, but now that he came to consider the matter dispassionately he was bound to own that there was much to be said in extenuation of all those who had refused to let Belinda have her heart’s desire. The combination of those bright gold curls and a dress of purple silk would be shocking enough, he imagined, to stun all beholders. He made haste to divert her thoughts. “Belinda, have you no friend to whom you might go?”
She appeared to bend her mind seriously to this question; and after staring with wrinkled brow at the Duke for a moment or two, suddenly dazzled him with one of her brilliant smiles, and said: “Oh, yes, I have a friend that was used to work at a mantua-maker’s, only she was married, and went away from Bath. I should like of all things to visit her, for I daresay she has a baby now, and I am excessively fond of babies!”
“Where does she live?” asked the Duke.
Belinda sighed. “She went to a place called Hitchin, but I don’t know where it is, and I only recall it because it sounds like kitchen, and I think that is very droll, don’t you, sir?”
“Hitchin!” he exclaimed, his harassed air lightening a little. “But Hitchin lies only a few miles from here! I daresay no more than six or seven, perhaps not as much! If you think you would like to visit this friend, I will take you there tomorrow! Do you know her direction?”
“Oh, no!” said Belinda unconcernedly.
Again the Duke was dashed “Well, do you know her name?” he asked.