"I've had it a hundred years." And she
concentrated on her soup.
"You must be very cold in it," said Mrs. Fisher, thin-lipped; for
it showed a great deal of Scrap--the whole of her arms, for instance,
and even where it covered her up it was so thin that you still saw her.
"Who--me?" said Scrap, looking up a moment. "Oh, no."
And she continued her soup.
"You mustn't catch a chill, you know," said Mrs. Arbuthnot,
feeling that such loveliness must at all costs be preserved unharmed.
"There's a great difference here when the sun goes down."
"I'm quite warm," said Scrap, industriously eating her soup.
"You look as if you had nothing at all on underneath," said Mrs.
Fisher.
"I haven't. At least, hardly anything," said Scrap, finishing her
soup.
"How every imprudent," said Mrs. Fisher, "and how highly
improper."
Whereupon Scrap stared at her.
Mrs. Fisher had arrived at dinner feeling friendly towards Lady
Caroline. She at least had not intruded into her room and sat at her
table and written with her pen. She did, Mrs. Fisher had supposed,
know how to behave. Now it appeared that she did not know, for was
this behaving, to come dressed--no, undressed--like that to a meal?
Such behaviour was not only exceedingly improper but also most
inconsiderate, for the indelicate creature would certainly catch a
chill, and then infect the entire party.
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