And that I won't stand--I vow I won't! It's insulting me too!" And springing up, she began a stormy pacing of the room, her white gown falling back from her neck and throat, and her hair floating behind her.
Mrs.Friend had begun to collect herself.

In the few hours she had passed under Lord Buntingford's roof she seemed to herself to have been passing through a forcing house.

Qualities she had never dreamed of possessing or claiming she must somehow show, or give up the game.

Unless she could understand and get hold of this wholly unexpected situation, as Helena presented it, she might as well re-pack her box, and order the village fly for departure.
"Do you mind if I ask you some questions ?" she said presently, as the white skirts swept past her.
"Mind! Not a bit.

What do you want to know ?" "Are you in love with Lord Donald ?" Helena laughed.
"If I were, do you think I'd let him run away with Lady Preston or anybody else?
Not at all! Lord Donald's just one of the men I like talking to.