“How are you, Caroline?” said George, with affability. “It is a great pleasure to see you at church.”
“It is a pleasure you might afford yourself oftener,” said Caroline, grimly.
George cast an envious eye to the front. Cheriton, walking with the lilac frock and the picture hat ten paces ahead of the bath-chair, appeared to be coming in for a good deal of public attention.
“How does it feel, Caroline,” said George Betterton, “to go to church with Grandmother Dorset?”
“Do you mean my niece, Miss Perry?” said she, huffily.
“Perry, eh? A girl of Polly’s?”
“Don’t you see the likeness?” said Caroline, with a little snort.
“No, I don’t,” said George. “She resembles Polly about as much as Cheriton resembles a Christian.”
“I agree with you, George,” said Caroline Crewkerne.
“She reminds me of what you were in the ’Fifties, Caroline,” said George, obviously trying to be agreeable.