"A moo?" I repeated, a little startled, "why, the sound a cow makes, I should think."
"No, it can't be that," said Diana, shaking her head and frowning at the open page of that same slim book I have mentioned, "it can't have anything to do with a cow, Peregrine, because that's what a grand lady does when she enters a ballroom; it says she moos slightly—"
"Lord, Ann!" exclaimed the Tinker. "What's she want to do that for? A moo's a beller, as Peregrine says, but who ever heard of a grand lady bellerin' in a ballroom or out—"
"I said moo!" retorted Diana. "And it's in this book."
"May I see?" I enquired. Obediently Diana rose and tendered me the volume, marking the paragraph with her finger, and at her command, I read aloud as follows.
"'UPON ENTERING A BALLROOM. The head should be carried stately, the bust well-poised, the arms disposed gracefully. The gait should be swimming, the head graciously aslant and the lips slightly moue.'"
"Well?" demanded Diana, glancing at Jeremy defiantly. "Now what's it mean, Peregrine?"
"'Moue?" I explained gravely, "is a French word signifying 'to pout' the lips."
"Which be a bit different to bellerin'!" chuckled the Tinker. Diana merely glanced at him, whereupon he began to hammer away lustily, in spite of which I fancied I heard him chuckle again. Turning to the title page of the little book I saw this:
ETIQUETTE FOR THE FAIR SEX
BEING HINTS ON FEMININE MANNERS & DEPORTMENT.
BY AN ACKNOWLEDGED SCION OF THE BON TON.