“The handsomest person I know.”
Mrs. Jordan continued to contemplate. “Well, I know some beauties.” Then with her odd jerkiness: “Do you think she looks good?” she inquired.
“Because that’s not always the case with the good-looking?”—the other took it up. “No, indeed, it isn’t: that’s one thing Cocker’s has taught me. Still, there are some people who have everything. Lady Bradeen, at any rate, has enough: eyes and a nose and a mouth, a complexion, a figure—”
“A figure?” Mrs. Jordan almost broke in.
“A figure, a head of hair!” The girl made a little conscious motion that seemed to let the hair all down, and her companion watched the wonderful show. “But Mr. Drake is another—?”
“Another?”—Mrs. Jordan’s thoughts had to come back from a distance.
“Of her ladyship’s admirers. He’s ‘going,’ you say, to her?”
At this Mrs. Jordan really faltered. “She has engaged him.”
“Engaged him?”—our young woman was quite at sea.
“In the same capacity as Lord Rye.”