Evidently Daphne represented to her one of the queer, crude types that modern society is always throwing up on the shores of life--like strange beasts from deep-sea soundings.
An American heiress, half Spanish--South-American Spanish--with no doubt a dash of Indian; no manners, as Europe understands them; unlimited money, and absurd pretensions--so Chloe said--in the matter of art; a mixture of the pedant and the _parvenue_; where on earth had young Barnes picked her up! It was in some such way, no doubt--so Lelius guessed--that the Duchess's thoughts were running.
Meanwhile Mrs.Barnes was treated with all possible civility.

The Duchess inquired into the plans for rebuilding Heston; talked of her own recollections of the place, and its owners; hoped that Mrs.Barnes was pleased with the neighbourhood; and finally asked the stock question, "And how do you like England ?" Daphne looked at her coolly.

"Moderately!" she said, with a smile, the colour rising in her cheek as she became aware, without looking at them, that Roger and Mrs.Fairmile had adjourned to the farther end of the large room, leaving her to the Duchess and Lelius.
The small eyes above the Duchess's prominent nose sparkled.

"Only moderately ?" The speaker's tone expressed that she had been for once taken by surprise.

"I'm extremely sorry we don't please you, Mrs.
Barnes." "You see, my expectations were so high." "Is it the country, or the climate, or the people, that won't do ?" inquired the Duchess, amused.
"I suppose it would be civil to say the climate," replied Daphne, laughing.
Whereupon the Duchess saw that her visitor had made up her mind not to be overawed.