So Miss Quincey never knew that it was Rhoda who was responsible for the delicate attentions she had received during her illness; Rhoda who had bought and sent off the presents from St.
Sidwell's; Rhoda who had conceived that pretty little idea of flowers "with love"; and Rhoda who had inspired the affectionate messages of the staff.

(The Classical Mistress had to draw most extravagantly on her popularity in order to work that fraud.) Rhoda had taken her place, and it was not in Rhoda's power to give it back to her.

But Miss Quincey never saw it; for a subtler web than that of Rhoda's spinning was woven about her eyes.
Possibly in some impressive and inapparent way her unhappy little favourite Laura Lazarus may have been glad to see her back again, though the two queer creatures exchanged no greeting more intimate than an embarrassed smile.

In this rapidly-advancing world the Mad Hatter alone remained where Miss Quincey had left her.

She explained at some length how the figures twisted themselves round in her head and would never stay the same for a minute together.