“First,” she announced, “I will measure her all over. Then I will go out and procure her a set of out-door garments, and tomorrow we will spend the whole livelong day in the shops. Do you mind if I use part of the 100 for the hire of a private brougham?”
“Have a coach and six, my dear Mrs. McMurray,” I said. “It will doubtless please Carlotta better.”
I summoned Carlotta and performed the ceremony of introduction. To my surprise she was perfectly at her ease and with the greatest courtesy of manner invited the visitor to accompany her to her own apartments.
When Mrs. McMurray returned to the drawing-room she wore an expression that can only be described as indescribable.
“What, my dear Sir Marcus, do you think is to be the ultimate destiny of that young person?”
“She shall learn type-writing,” said I, suddenly inspired, “and make a fair copy of my Renaissance Morals.”
“She would make a very fair copy indeed of Renaissance Morals,” returned the lady, dryly.
“Is she so very dreadful?” I asked in alarm. “The peignoir, I know—”
“Perhaps that has something to do with it.”
“Then, for heaven’s sake,” said I, “dress her in drabs and greys and subfusc browns. Cut off her hair and give her a row of buttons down the back.”