"And how are you?" asked Mrs. Walford. "Have you made up your mind about Bournemouth yet? She is quite fit to go now, Humphrey. You ought to pack her off at once; there's nothing to wait for now you've got your nurse. How does she suit you?"
"She seems all right," said Cynthia, rather doubtfully. "A little consequential, perhaps—that's all."
"Oh, you mustn't stand any airs and graces; put her in her place at the start. What has she done?"
"She hasn't done anything, only——"
"She's our first," explained Kent, "and we're rather in awe of her. She was surprised to find that there weren't two nurseries—she is frequently 'surprised,' and then we apologise to her."
"Don't be so absurd!" murmured his wife; "he does exaggerate so, mamma! No; but, of course, she has always been in better situations, with people richer than us.... 'Us'?" she repeated questioningly, looking at Kent with a smile.
He laughed and shook his head.
"Than we, then! And she's the least bit in the world too self-important."
"Than 'we'?" echoed Mrs. Walford. "Than 'we'? Nonsense! 'Than us'!"
Kent pulled his moustache silently, and there was a moment's pause.