"I think the world must be coming to an end, with all these rails and stations and sheds," fretfully spoke Miss Davenal.
"The news has made me ill," said Lady Oswald, who liked nothing half so well as to speak of her own ailments. "I was getting better, as Dr. Davenal can tell you, but this will throw me back for weeks. My maid has been giving me red lavender ever since."
Miss Davenal looked at her with a puzzled stare.
"That is poison, is it not?"
"What is poison?"
"Red lead."
"I said red lavender," cried Lady Oswald. "It is very good for the spirits: a few drops taken on a lump of sugar. Red lav-en-der."
Miss Davenal resolutely shook her head. "Nasty stuff!" she cried. "Red lavender never did anybody good yet, Lady Oswald. Leave it off; leave it off."
"I don't touch it once in a month in an ordinary way," screamed Lady Oswald. "Only when anything beyond common arises to flurry me."
Miss Bettina stared at her. "What common is flooded? It is dry weather."