"One gets almost sick of the hydrangeas here, Julia, but they're really most extraordinarily effective. We've put four great tubs of them, ice-blue almost, in the corners, as big as this table nearly, and against all that cream-and-gold.... Oh, Jennie! You know father says you can have whichever of those frocks you like. I should say the voile. Which do you think?"
"I don't care which, mother. My last one's all right. I don't want another."
Again across the table from Julia: "That's a darling one you're wearing now!"
"Do you like it, Aunt Julia?"
"Sweet!"
"And oh, Julia," suddenly in a little outburst from Madge, "honestly, now! Do you think I could wear those sleeves, or those not-any-sleeves-at-all rather—you know—the quite new ones, that show your arm from the very top of your shoulder? You must, of course, with your arms—it's your duty—but I'm not so sure about me——"
"Stuff and nonsense, of course you can. And I'm certainly going to," Julia declared.
"Bit French, aren't they?" said Alec over his canapé. "I've seen 'em."
"He's seen 'em, Julia!" Madge laughed. "Don't tell me after that that a man doesn't notice what a woman has on—at any rate if there's as little of it as there is of those sleeves! But let's settle Jennie's frock first. I think the voile. And you can wear a hat with it or not, just as you like."
"Would you very much mind if I didn't go, mother?" said Jennie dejectedly.