It was stupid of her to misunderstand the good woman, but she did.
"Is anything the matter ?" she asked, turning to look at Mrs.Bell.
"Whose fate is trembling in the balance ?" If it had been possible for light blue eyes of a very common shade and shape to wither with a look, poor Beatrice would never have got over that terrible moment.
Stout Mrs.Bell dropped her companion's arm, moved two or three paces away, and accompanied her scorching glance with words of muffled thunder.
"Beatrice Meadowsweet, you are either green with jealousy, or you are a perfect goose.".