Sir Leslie Borrowdean and his friends are altogether different, of course." The girl bent over her work.
"No doubt, mother," she answered, "There's Mary stamping on the floor.
I expect she has your bath ready." An hour or so later Mrs.Phillimore departed in a hired brougham.
Her hair had been carefully arranged by a local expert who had an establishment in the next street, her pink silk gown had come through the ordeal of cleansing with remarkable success, and the heels on her new evening shoes resembled more than anything else, miniature stilts.

Her face was wreathed in smiles, and she possessed the good conscience and light heart of a woman who feels that she has made a successful toilette.
All the vague misgivings of a short while ago had vanished.

She gave her hair a final touch in the side window of the carriage as she drove off, and quite forgot to wave her hand to Hester, who was standing at the window to see her go.

If any misgivings remained at all between the two, they were not with her.

She settled herself back amongst the cushions with a little sigh of content.