Every trace of animation and charm had now vanished from that lady's manner.

She was as languid and monosyllabic as before, and Doris could only feel once again that while her clever husband was an eagerly welcomed guest, she herself could only expect to reckon as his appendage--a piece of family luggage.
Lady Dunstable threw open the door of a spacious bedroom.

"No doubt you will wish to rest till dinner," she said, severely.

"And of course your maid will ask for what she wants." At the word "maid," did Doris dream it, or was there a satiric gleam in the hard black eyes?
"Pretender," it seemed to say--and Doris's conscience admitted the charge.
And indeed the door had no sooner closed on Lady Dunstable before an agitated knock announced Jane--in tears.
She stood opposite her mistress in desperation.
"Please, ma'am--I'll have to have an evening dress--or I can't go in to supper!" "What on earth do you mean ?" said Doris, staring at her.
"Every maid in this 'ouse, ma'am, 'as got to dress for supper.

The maids go in the 'ousekeeper's room, an' they've all on 'em got dresses V-shaped, or cut square, or something.