Nevertheless, when Miss Madge Beresford came into the billiard-room, where her brother was patiently practising the spot stroke, her appearance seemed to produce a great effect.
'Well, we have got on a swagger dress this time!' cried Mr. Tom, who, though he had never been to Oxford, was a genuine free-trader in slang, and was ready to import it from anywhere.
He stared at her—at her dark Indian-red hat and skirt, and her long tight-fitting black sealskin coat—and she bore the scrutiny patiently.
'You are not going out on a morning like this?' he said, at length.
'There is no rain now; and the streets are quite dry,' pleaded Madge.
'I know it's going to be fine.'
'It's no use, Baby. There won't be a soul to admire your new dress.
Better go and finish those slippers for me.'
He proceeded with his billiards.
'Won't you come, Tom?' she said. 'I went to the bazaar with you, when you wanted to see Kate Harman.'
'Wanted to see Kate Harman?' he said, contemptuously. 'Couldn't anybody see Kate Harman who paid half-a-crown at the door?'
'But I took you up and introduced you to her.'