“Naturally! Who wouldn’t be? A muslin gown, this morning! If you’d an ounce of sense, you’d go upstairs and change it at once.”
Grizel’s face fell, like that of a small disappointed child. She shivered, and her nose looked redder than ever.
“I was hinting,” she sighed softly, “for a fire.”
“I know that, my dear, perfectly well, but you are not going to get it.”
“If you were a kind, polite hostess—”
“No, I shouldn’t, because in an hour’s time the rain will stop, and the room would be close and stuffy all day. Besides, we are going out. If you will be quiet for ten minutes, I shall have finished these books, and we’ll go out shopping. So you’ll have to change.”
Grizel stared, a glimmer of interest struggling with dismay.
“What are you going to buy?”
“Vegetables for dinner, and bacon, and pay the books.”
“You expect me to walk out in a torrent for that! I won’t go. I won’t change my frock either. I’ll go to bed.”