she
got off the wall and came towards the window, it seemed a restful thing
to know she was going to spend an entire month with people in dresses
made as she dimly remembered dresses used to be made five summers ago.

"I got here yesterday morning," she said, looking up at them and
smiling. She really was bewitching. She had everything, even a
dimple.

"It's a great pity," said Mrs. Arbuthnot, smiling back, "because
we were going to choose the nicest room for you."

"Oh, but I've done that," said Lady Caroline. "At least, I think
it's the nicest. It looks two ways--I adore a room that looks two
ways, don't you? Over the sea to the west, and over this Judas tree to
the north."

"And we had meant to make it pretty for you with flowers," said
Mrs. Wilkins.

"Oh, Domenico did that. I told him to directly I got here. He's
the gardener. He's wonderful."

"It's a good thing, of course," said Mrs. Arbuthnot a little
hesitatingly, "to be independent, and to know exactly what one wants."

"Yes, it saves trouble," agreed Lady Caroline.

"But one shouldn't be so independent," said Mrs. Wilkins, "as to
leave no opportunity for other people to exercise their benevolences on
one."

Lady Caroline, who had been looking at Mrs. Arbuthnot, now looked
at Mrs. Wilkins. That day at the queer club she had had merely a
blurred impression of Mrs. Wilkins, for it was the other one who did
all the talking, and her impression had been of somebody so shy, so
awkward that it was best to take no notice of her. She had not even
been able to say good-bye properly, doing it in an agony, turning red,
turning damp. Therefore she now looked at her in some surprise; and
she was still more surprised when Mrs. Wilkins added, gazing at her
with the most obvious sincere admiration, speaking indeed with a
conviction that refused to remain unuttered, "I didn't realize you were
so pretty."

She stared at Mrs. Wilkins. She was not usually told this quite
so immediately and roundly. Abundantly as she was used to it--
impossible not to be after twenty-eight solid years--it surprised her
to be told it with such bluntness, and by a woman.

"It's very kind of you to think so," she said.

"Why, you're very lovely," said Mrs. Wilkins. "Quite, quite
lovely."

"I hope," said Mrs. Arbuthnot pleasantly, "you make the most of
it."

Lady Caroline then stared at Mrs. Arbuthnot. "Oh yes," she said.
"I make the most of it. I've been doing that