“I should like to see her trousseau,” Mrs. Sixsmith sighed.
“It isn’t up to much. Anything good she sells—on account of bailiffs.”
“Pooh! She should treat them all en reine.”
Mrs. Smee looked wise.
“Always be civil with bailiffs,” she said; “never ruffle them! If you queen a sheriff’s officer remember there’s no getting rid of him. He clings on—like a poor relation.”
“Oh, well,” Mrs. Sixsmith replied, “I always treat the worms en reine, not,” she added wittily, “that I ever have....”
Miss Sinquier twirled herself finally about.
“There,” she murmured, “I’m going out into the wings.”
“When’s your call?”
“After Lady Mary.”