“And did the lady-papers say nothing of the wearer?”
“Oh, some of them were so good as to say I was not quite the most hideous débutante of the year, and that they liked the way I had my hair dressed—and now I find our French hair-dresser has the impertinence to advertise the style as the Vansittart Coiffure.”
“What a frightful outrage! And having been presented, and being now actually out, I conclude you have found London a very pleasant place, under mother’s wing?” said Jack.
“Oh, it is all very quiet so far, and will be till after Easter, no doubt; but we have been to a few friendly dinners and a good many luncheons, and we have a cloud of invitations and engagements for May, and some of our Hampshire friends are in town, so there is plenty to do.”
“And have you seen anything of your Yorkshire friend, Sir Hubert Hartley?” asked Jack.
“Yes. Sir Hubert is in town.”
“And did he see you in your débutante’s finery?”
“Yes, mother had a tea-party that afternoon, and there were a good many people—and, yes, Sir Hubert dropped in.”
“And didn’t that finish him?”
“Finish him! oh, Jack, what a horrid expression! I don’t understand you in the least!”