'
'Nonsense,' Caroline retorted, 'they're just the same, there's nothing
to choose between me and Reginald--nothing except discretion!'
'Oh, Caroline dear!' Sophia entreated.
'Discretion!' Caroline repeated firmly, and Mrs. Batty, bending
forward stiffly because of her constricting clothes, and with a creak
and rustle, ventured to ask in low tones, 'Have you any news of Mr.
Mallett lately?' The three elder ladies murmured together; Rose,
indifferent, concerned with her own thoughts, ate a creamy cake. This
was one of the conversations she had heard before and there was no
need for her to listen.
She was roused by the departure of Mrs. Batty.
'Poor thing,' Caroline remarked as the door closed. 'It's a pity she
has no daughter with an eye for colour. The roses in her hat were pale
in comparison with her face. Why doesn't she use a little powder,
though I suppose that would turn her purple, and after all, she does
very well considering what she is; but why, why did James Batty marry
her? And he was one of our own friends! You remember the sensation at
the time, Sophia?'
Sophia remembered very well. 'She was a pretty girl, Caroline, and
good-natured. She has lost her looks, but she still has a kind heart.'
'Personally I would rather keep my looks,' said Caroline, touching her
fringe before the mirror. 'And I never had a kind heart to cherish.'
Tenderly Sophia shook her head. 'It isn't true,' she whispered to
Rose.
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