Imagine it, sixty minutes, more or less, of unrelenting
gobble and gabble. Why can't _you_ take them on, Milly?" she asked,
turning hopefully to her sister.
"I don't know them," said Milly hastily.
"All the better; you can pass yourself off as me. People say that we are
so alike that they can hardly tell us apart, and I've only spoken to
these tiresome young women about twice in my life, at committee-rooms,
and bowed to them in the club. Any of the club page-boys will point them
out to you; they're always to be found lolling about the hall just before
lunch-time."
"My dear Betty, don't be absurd," protested Milly; "I've got some people
lunching with me at the Carlton to-morrow, and I'm leaving Town the day
afterwards."
"What time is your lunch to-morrow?" asked Lady Drakmanton reflectively.
"Two o'clock," said Milly.
"Good," said her sister; "the Smithly-Dubbs shall lunch with me
to-morrow. It shall be rather an amusing lunch-party. At least, I shall
be amused."
The last two remarks she made to herself. Other people did not always
appreciate her ideas of humour. Sir James never did.
The next day Lady Drakmanton made some marked variations in her usual
toilet effects.
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