“Concern me, child!” exclaimed the Duchess, glancing apprehensively towards the party-wall. “Suppose he should be prying as usual?”
“He would never see me, dear aunt! He hath eyes for no one and nothing but you. And small wonder, for you are looking extreme well o’ late. You grow younger every day, I swear y’ do ... that gown, now, becometh you vastly!”
“Mm!” quoth the Duchess, eyeing her niece warily. “Why this fulsome flattery, pray?”
“’Tis merest truth, aunt. And thou’rt looking thy best to-day, which is well, for in half an hour I take thee to meet him.”
“Him, Herminia? Can you possibly mean—him?”
“Him, aunt.”
“That odious ogre——”
“That gentle giant, aunt.”
“I’ll not go, Herminia.”
“I suggest thy little laced cap with the blue ribbands, aunt.”