"It was neither too hard, nor too soft, nor too hot, nor too cold," thundered the Lady, as she seated herself at the table; "but it was all of them."
"I declare, that's most distressing," said Miss Grizzy, in a tone of sorrowful amazement. "Was your head high enough, dear Lady Maclaughlan?"
"Perhaps it was too high," said Miss Jacky.
"I know nothing more disagreeable than a high head," remarked Miss
Nicky.
"Except a fool's head—humph!"
The sound of a carriage here set all ears on full stretch, and presently the well-known pea-green drew up.
"Dear me! Bless me! Goodness me!" shrieked the three ladies at once. "Surely, Lady Maclaughlan, you can't—you don't—you won't; this must be a mistake."
"There's no mistake in the matter, girls," replied their friend, with her accustomed sang froid. "I'm going home; so I ordered the carriage; that's all—humph!"
"Going home!" faintly murmured the disconsolate spinsters.
"What! I suppose you think I ought to stay here and have another petticoat spoiled; or lose another half-crown at cards; or have the finishing stroke put to Sir Sampson—humph!"