"Very good, my lady."
The article was measured and cut almost as soon as ordered, and the remnant rewound into a small parcel and thrown upon the counter.
At the same moment, and as a boy handed Caroline the edging, wrapped in paper, for which she had already paid, and which she took mechanically, she heard one of the bystanders whisper to another: "The Countess D——!" (one of the most celebrated women of England.)
"Ma'ma," said Caroline, "did you observe that lady?"
And they left the shop.
"Bless me!" said Mrs. Clifford, looking at her watch, "do you know how late it is? Half past two. We promised to be at Mrs. Porter's at this very time. She said, you remember, she was going out at four; and it will take us, I'm afraid, nearly an hour to get there."
"Then let us make haste, ma'ma!"
And with a very rapid pace they hurried back toward Regent Street and Portland Place. They had gone on in this way, perhaps, twenty minutes, when a white-headed, respectable-looking old gentleman was thrust aside by a rude fellow pushing by, so that he ran against Caroline, and caused her to drop her pocket-handkerchief. He stopped, with evident marks of mortification, and picked it up, with a polite apology. Caroline assured him she was not hurt.
"But, my dear young lady," said the benevolent-looking old gentleman, "let me return your parcel."
"Oh, that is not mine," replied Caroline.