Her use of violent perfumes is thus a double offence.

"There is something more serious," said Miss Griggs.
"I can hardly believe there can be anything more serious than making one's self detestable to one's fellow-creatures," said I.
"Unless it is making one's self too agreeable," said Miss Griggs, pointedly.
I asked her what she meant.
"I have discovered," she replied, "that Carlotta has been carrying on a clandestine flirtation with the young man who calls for orders from the grocer's." "I am glad it wasn't the butcher's boy," I murmured.
Miss Griggs giggled in a silly way, as if I were jesting.

At my stern request she recovered and unfolded the horrible tale.

She had caught Carlotta kissing her hand to him.

She had also seen him smuggle a three-cornered note between Carlotta's fingers, and Carlotta had definitely refused to surrender the billet-dour.
"What is the modern course of treatment," I asked, "prescribed for young ladies who flirt with grocers' assistants?
In Renaissance times she could be whipped.