Her taste was
wonderfully perceptive. The things bought were exquisite, but a little
colourless woman could wear them all with advantage to her restrictions
of type.
As the brougham drove down Bond Street, Betty called Lady Anstruthers'
attention to more than one passer-by.
"Look, Rosy," she said. "There is Mrs. Treat Hilyar in the second
carriage to the right. You remember Josie Treat Hilyar married Lord
Varick's son."
In the landau designated an elderly woman with wonderfully-dressed
white hair sat smiling and bowing to friends who were walking. Lady
Anstruthers, despite her eagerness, shrank back a little, hoping to
escape being seen.
"Oh, it is the Lows she is speaking to--Tom and Alice--I did not know
they had sailed yet."
The tall, well-groomed young man, with the nice, ugly face, was showing
white teeth in a gay smile of recognition, and his pretty wife was
lightly waving a slim hand in a grey suede glove.
"How cheerful and nice-tempered they look," said Rosy. "Tom was only
twenty when I saw him last. Whom did he marry?"
"An English girl. Such a love. A Devonshire gentleman's daughter. In New
York his friends called her Devonshire Cream and Roses. She is one of
the pretty, flushy, pink ones.
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