“Hulloa, Adela!”
Jamming the brakes hard on, the heir to the barony was just able to avert a forcible impact with the fearsome four-footed beast which measured eighteen inches and a quarter from the tip of its tail to the end of its muzzle.
“What is it, Adela? Win it in a raffle?”
The seventh unmarried daughter of not quite a hundred earls was a little inclined to stiffen at this freedom with an Honorable Mention at the Crystal Palace.
“It is a pure-bred rough-haired Himalayan Dust Spaniel, and they are very rare.”
“I hope so.”
This ill-timed remark did not seem to help the conversation. The seventh unmarried daughter of not quite a hundred earls—she was the daughter of only three earls really, although for that she cannot accept responsibility—tilted her chin to its most aristocratic angle and displayed considerable reserve of manner.
An eyelash, lengthy and sarcastic, flickered upon her cheek.
“Pure-bred rough-coated Himalayan Dust Spaniel,” said the heir to the barony. “Stick him in your muff, or you might lose him.”
“You are coming to the concert, aren’t you?” said the seventh unmarried daughter in a tone singularly detached and cool.