As soon as Gwen had gone Mrs. Potten remarked, "Now I must be going!" and then sat on, as people do.
"Very pretty girl, Gwendolen Scott," she added.
"Very pretty," said Lady Dashwood.
"Lady Belinda wrote to me a day or two ago, asking me if Gwen could come on to me from you on Monday."
"Oh!" said Lady Dashwood, but she uttered the exclamation wearily.
"I have written and told her that I'm afraid I can't," said Mrs. Potten. "Can't!"
Lady Dashwood looked away as if the subject was ended.
"If I have the child, it will mean that the mother will insist on coming to fetch her away or something." Here Mrs. Potten fidgeted with her bag. "And I really scarcely know Lady Belinda. It was the husband we used to know, old General Scott, poor dear silly old man!"
Lady Dashwood received the remark in silence.
"I can't do with some of these modern women," continued Mrs. Potten. "There are women whose names I could tell you that I would not trust with a tin halfpenny. My dear, I've seen with my own eyes at a hotel restaurant a well-dressed woman sweep up the tip left for the waiter by the person who had just gone, I saw that the waiters saw it, but they daren't do anything. I saw a friend of mine speaking to her afterwards! Knew her! Quite respectable! Fancy the audacity of it!"