And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. ‘Well, young man,’ he said, ‘we haven’t seen you lately,’ and something about ‘Bateson & Co. That’s my opinion, if you ask me. Her eyes were fixed upon the ground, the pink colour coming and going in her cheeks was very delicate and girlish. Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets.
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