Mrs Bagshot turned quite purple, and struggled in vain for words. Before she could find any at all adequate to the situation, Hero had said penitently: “Oh, I beg your pardon! But Eudora should not have said that about Sherry! Do, pray, sit down, Cousin Jane, and — and let me ring for Groombridge to bring some fruit, and a glass of wine!”
Mrs Bagshot coldly refused this offer of refreshment, but she condescended to seat herself on the sofa, remarking as she did so that she was sorry to see that her exalted position had not led Hero to mend her manners. Her daughters wandered about the room, inspecting the furniture, criticizing the colour of the hangings, and wondering how Hero could bear to have a canary deafening her with its odious noise. Hero replied to their strictures and exclamations with what patience she could muster, and tried to counter Mrs Bagshot’s extremely searching questions with dignity and civility.
She was succeeding very well when the door opened to admit Sherry, who came in all unawares, saying: “Here’s a damned thing, Kitten! That fool of a man of mine has lost my — ”
What Bootle had lost they were not destined to learn, for Sherry, perceiving the morning callers, broke off in midsentence, ejaculated: “My God!” in accents of horror, and retired precipitately.
Hero made a desperate attempt to keep her countenance, failed, and went into a peal of laughter. Her affronted relative rose majestically, and, addressing her daughters, said in a terrible voice: “Come, my loves! It is plain that we are not welcome in your cousin’s house.”
“Oh, pray do not take a pet, Cousin Jane!” begged Hero. “It — it is just that poor Sherry is not feeling quite the thing today! He will be sorry presently, I dare say.”
Mrs Bagshot, however, was adamant, and was in the act of delivering herself of a severe valedictory speech when a welcome diversion was caused by Groombridge’s announcing Lord Wrotham.
George came in with his usual impetuosity, and with the inevitable lock of raven hair straying across his romantic brow. He grasped his hostesses’s hand warmly, saying: “I heard you was come up from the country! How do you do? You look to be in famous shape! What a capital little place you have here! It is just the thing, Kitten!”
“Oh, George, I am so glad to see you!” Hero said. “Oh, do you — are you acquainted with Lord Wrotham, Cousin Jane?”
Mrs Bagshot bowed, but lost no time in shepherding her daughters out of the room. She was naturally unable to suppose that any man could look upon these damsels without experiencing a start of admiration, and although his lordship had the undoubted advantage of being a peer of the realm it was well known that his pockets were (in vulgar parlance) pretty well to let. She scolded Hero, who escorted her downstairs to the front door, on the impropriety of encouraging familiarity from so unstable a young man, and expressed the pious hope that the oddity of her manners would not be her ruin.