“That’s very———” I began. I wanted to let her see I appreciated what she was saying; but she went on in her loud, slow voice:
“Isn’t Christmas a bore? I have just bought some things for some reduced gentle people. One has to look after the unfortunate of one’s own class you know really—old mother and three old maids—so sad you know.”
“I’m sure———”
“Yes, I suppose it is kind, but we all have to do it. But I must go, Sir Thomas and Lady Billings are coming to dinner to-night, and I must call at the florists, and goodness knows what else—Christmas prices too.”
“Your own———”
“My own conservatories don’t seem able to produce the flowers these professionals can; do you know, really, my gardener is supposed to be an expert from England. Now, Miss Travers,” she turned to me, “do take my tip and know only nice people. They are the only people who live, really they are. Good-bye Mrs. Somers. Mr. Somers well? Glad to hear it. We never see him now: I know he is not fond of society, so strange!”
I said: “Good-bye Mrs. Mount. I’m delighted to have met you,” in my best attempt at the proper manner. I wanted to make a good impression. Mumsie seemed amused, I wonder why.
As we walked on I felt I had one foot on the ladder; the position was improved. At last I knew a leading lady in society.
“Well, Elsie, what do you think of her?” Mumsie asked.
“I think she is most interesting,” I replied.