"There is another lady who would like it, I know, and she has but just gone out—and a most charming angel she is. I do speak of the Lady Adela——"
This was quite the climax, and Selina hastily interrupted. Lady Adela was even more lovely than was she herself: very much, too, in the same style of delicate beauty. What would Adela be in that lace dress!
"I will take it," cried Selina. "I must have a slip of that peach glacé to wear underneath it."
"It will be altogether fit for a queen," quoth madame.
"But could I have them home by tomorrow night for Lady Burnham's party?"
"Certainly madame can."
"Very well then," concluded Selina. "Or—stay: would white look better under it, after all? I have ever so many white glacé slips."
Madame's opinion was that no colour, ever seen in the earth or in the air, could or would look as well as the peach. Milady Grey could not wear peach; she was too dark.
"Yes, I'll decide upon the peach blossom," concluded Selina. "But that's not a good silk, is it?"
"Si. Mais si. C'est de la soie cuite."