It was painful not to be able to ask questions.
"The lady in the carriage was the Countess of Dunholm," she said rather grandly.

"They are going to the Court to call on Miss Vanderpoel." "Then Miss Vanderpoel's there yet.

That's all right.

Thank you, ma'am," and lifting his cap again he turned into the little public house.
The Dunholm party had been accustomed on their rare visits to Stornham to be received by the kind of man-servant in the kind of livery which is a manifest, though unwilling, confession.

The men who threw open the doors were of regulation height, well dressed, and of trained bearing.
The entrance hall had lost its hopeless shabbiness.