"And the fashions come from a source about as pure," said I, from the next room.
"Bless me, Jennie, do tell us if your father has been listening to us all this time!" was the next exclamation; and forthwith there was a whir and rustle of the silken wings, as the whole troop fluttered into my study.
"Now, Mr. Crowfield, you are too bad!" said Humming-Bird, as she perched upon a corner of my study-table, and put her little feet upon an old "Froissart" which filled the arm-chair.
"To be listening to our nonsense!" said Pheasant.
"Lying in wait for us!" said Dove.
"Well, now, you have brought us all down on you," said Humming-Bird, "and you won't find it so easy to be rid of us. You will have to answer all our questions."
"My dears, I am at your service, as far as mortal man may be," said I.
"Well, then," said Humming-Bird, "tell us all about everything,—how things come to be as they are. Who makes the fashions?"
"I believe it is universally admitted that, in the matter of feminine toilet, France rules the world," said I.