Her mother entered the room.
Of her advent there were the usual notifications.

An immense rustling of silken skirts, and an overwhelming odour of the latest Bond Street perfume.

She flung herself into a chair, and regarded her daughter with a complacent smile.
"That delightful man has been to see me again," she exclaimed.

"I could scarcely believe it when Mary brought me his card.

By the bye, where is Mary?
I want her to try to take that stain out of my pink silk skirt.