The steps were let down, and the young exquisite, who was such a connoisseur in dress, was admitted to the carriage.
'Between you, me, and the post,' said Mrs. Tomkin-Jones, setting up the stick of her parasol beside her mouth, 'my country friend here has been allowed to run wild in the hedges like a rose of June. Her distinguished father is a widower, involved in diplomacy and all that, you know, and quite unable to attend to her education. She has been left too much in the hands of vulgar domestics, and—well, you know the result. Des lacunes, comprenez vous—soyez l'aimable et n'y prenez attention—cependant elle est charmante.'
Winefred turned hot and cold.
She knew that she was being discussed in a language she did not understand; above all—what she suspected was that some disparaging remark had been made relative to her mother.
She was already beginning to feel that her new position would be one of discomfort out of all proportion to its advantages.
But suddenly, with a start, she put up her hand and exclaimed—'Oh!'
CHAPTER XXXII
AT THE MILLINER'S
'My dear,' said the relict of Tomkin-Jones, M.D., 'if I may be allowed the impertinent question, why did you say, "oh!"'