"Rose is out of humour," remarked his mother.
"Yes," said Susannah abruptly.
The Countess looked absently at the reflection of her frail charming person in the mirror by the bookcase.
"And no wonder, my dear, all day shut up in a coach with that girl! And Rose of all men!" She laughed, half under her breath.
Miss Chressham glanced at her in a kind of shock.
"What do you think of her?" she asked.
"She is impossible!" answered the Countess at once. "Gauche, vapourish, no style, a little sullen, I think. Of course, quite pretty behind a bourgeois tea-table, but no manners! La, poor Rose! She seems afraid of him, too."
Susannah was silent. It was startling to find the shallow judgment of the Countess pronounce thus.
"But," added that lady sweetly, "what does it matter? Rose will get used to her."
"And there is the money," finished Miss Chressham bitterly.