Lilian went white. The truth is, she was nearly twenty-nine, and I suppose thought it about time to have someone for a husband, and as Mr Rumford was showing a strong inclination to apply for the position, I rather fancy she was considering whether he would not do. He had made piles of money out of a patent medicine called “Aunt Jane’s Jalap,” and was really not such a bad sort in his way: though just then I was anything but disposed to let her know I thought so. Eveleen took up the cudgels for Lilian;--they always stand up for each other against me. “What a delicate way you have of putting a thing, Norah. You and your language are so in keeping. If you could only induce someone to transfer you from the family of which you so entirely disapprove how much happier you would be--and we also. Couldn’t you put the screw on Mr Morgan? He seems to be the only chance you are ever likely to have. Do make the most of him. Let mamma ask him what he means.” “Look here, Eveleen! You think yourself vastly superior to me----” “Not at all. Not while your complexion is quite so brilliant--I couldn’t.” “Oh yes, you do. But you’re wrong for all that. You’ve spent your whole life in chasing men----” “I rather fancied that some of them had chased me. But I daresay it’s the same thing to you.” “Is there anything to be proud of in that? You’ve devoted your whole life to men, anyhow, and I don’t think that’s very womanly.” “I think it probable that you wouldn’t--for reasons.--My dear Norah, do use your handkerchief. There’s a drop of perspiration trickling down your nose. Or is it a tear? It doesn’t seem to combine with freckles.” Doris struck in. “When you people have quite finished, might I ask if I am ever going to have any fringe-nets? I can’t remain the whole day with my hair in curlers.” She had it in curlers then, and very queer she looked. No one would have known her for the radiant Doris of her admirers. Nothing takes the gilt off a girl’s appearance so much as curlers. Unless mamma makes me I never use them. Thank goodness, my hair has got a curl of its own, if it is not quite in the style of the barbers’ fashion-plates. Mamma--who never thinks of being down on them for anything which they may say to me--was quick at seconding Doris’ suggestion. “Norah, be so good as to let me hear no more from you. Both your language and your appearance smack of the servants’ hall. You will fetch the things I requested you to bring before. Then I will ask you for an explanation of how it is that you have failed to bring them now. Go up to your room, and make yourself look as decent as you conveniently can, and be quick about it;--and not another word!” Lilian stood up. “I suppose I had better find you another matching. You are sure to bring something impossible if I don’t.” Eveleen put in her word.