It was told that, in the past, her life had been a gallant one, although her adventures, it was believed, had been mostly with men. Those however, who had observed her conduct closely, had not failed to remark how often her eyes had been attracted in the course of the evening towards the dimpled cheeks of the British Ambassadress.
Perceiving her ample form not far away, Queen Thleeanouhee signalled to her amiably to approach.
Née Rosa Bark (and a daughter of the Poet) Lady Something was perhaps not sufficiently tactful to meet all the difficulties of the rôle in which it had pleased life to call her. But still, she tried, and did do her best, which often went far to retrieve her lack of savoir faire. “Life is like that, dear,” she would sometimes say to Sir Somebody, but she would never say what it was that life was like. ‘That,’ it seemed....
“I was just looking for my daughter,” she declared.
“And is she as sympathetic,” Queen Thleeanouhee softly asked, “as her mamma?”
“She’s shy—of the Violet persuasion, but that’s not a bad thing in a young girl.”
“Where I reign, shyness is a quality which is entirely unknown...!”
“It must be astonishing, ma’am,” Lady Something replied, caressing a parure of false jewels, intended, indeed, to deceive no one, “to be a Queen of a sun-steeped country like yours.”
Queen Thleeanouhee fetched a sigh.
“Dateland—my dear, it’s a scorch!” she averred.