"Excellent."
"You think I shall do?"
"Margaret, you're a dream of delight."
"You really think so? You like the dress? I was afraid there was a little too much on the bodice."
"There is nothing anywhere which could be altered in the slightest degree for the better; the gown and the wearer are perfectly matched: they are both lovely."
Her ladyship dropped a curtsy.
"Thank you, that's just what I wanted you to say. Now you stand up, and I'll give you my candid opinion."
"Very much obliged, but I'm not sure that I want it; I'm not the Countess of Cantyre. Who cares what I look like?"
"You little humbug! It's only your conceit; it's simply that you take it for granted that you always look your best, which couldn't be improved." Her ladyship was arranging the drapery of her skirt as she glanced in the mirror. "What have you got out of Noel Draycott?"
"Nothing, as yet. I haven't tried; but I shall. I mean to drop a bomb at his feet at the moment he least expects it."