It was one of the bitter-sweet moments of life. Lady Tatham steadied herself.
"That is a sketch," she said mechanically, "by Burne-Jones, for one of the Pygmalion and Galatea series. We have one or two others on the same subject."
Mrs. Penfold clasped her small hands in rapture.
"Oh! but how interesting! Do you know I was once Galatea? When I was a girl I used to act a great deal. Well, not act exactly—for I didn't have to speak. I never could remember my lines. But I had two great parts. There was Hermione, in 'The Winter's Tale'; and Galatea. I made hundreds of pounds for hospitals—hundreds. It's not vain now, is it, to say one was pretty in one's youth?"
"You like remembering it? Some people don't."
"Ah, no, that's wrong! I'd liked to have been beautiful once, if I'm old and ugly now," cried Mrs. Penfold with fervour. "Of course"—she looked shyly at the sketch—"I had beautiful draperies on. My Galatea was not like that."
"Draperies?" Lady Tatham laughed. "Pygmalion had only just made her—there had been no time to dress her."
"We dressed her," said Mrs. Penfold decidedly, "from top to toe. Some day I must show you the drawings of it—it's not like that at all. The girls think I'm silly to talk of it—oh! they don't say it—they're very good to me. But I can see they do. Only—they've so many things to be proud of. Susy's so clever—she knows Greek and all that kind of thing. And Lydia's drawing is so wonderful. Do you know she has made twenty pounds out of her sketches this week!"
"Capital!" said Lady Tatham smiling.
"Ah, it means a great deal to us! You see"—Mrs. Penfold looked round her—"when you're very rich, and have everything you want, you can't understand—at least I don't think you can—how it feels to have twenty pounds you don't expect. Lydia just danced about the room. And I'm to have a new best dress—she insists on it. Well, you see"—the little pink and white face of the speaker broke into smiles—"that's all so amusing. It puts one in good spirits. It's just as though one were rich, and made a thousand pounds. I daresay"—she looked, awestruck, at the Burne-Jones sketch—"that's worth our whole income. But we're very happy. We never fret. Lydia and Susy both help in the housework. And I make their blouses."