“Aren’t they all horrid!”
“Natürlich; but do you know those cheap hotels where the guests are treated like naughty children?”
“No. I must confess I don’t,” the Ambassadress laughed.
“Ah, there you are....”
Lady Something considered a moment a distant gardener employed in tying Chrysanthemum blooms to little sticks.
“I’m bothered about a cook,” she said.
“And I, about a maid! I dismissed Ffoliott this morning—well I simply had to—for a figure salient.”
“So awkward out here to replace anyone; I’m sure I don’t know....” the Ambassadress replied, her eyes hovering tragically over the pantaloons strained to splitting point, of the stooping gardener.
“It’s a pretty prospect....”
“Life is a compound!” Lady Something defined it at last.