Edwardian Candlelight Omnibus
““Did you ever?” said Tansy.
“Pon my Sam, I never heard the like,” replied Jeffrey.
“T-to m-make a deliberate fool of me…” Cyril stammered.
“Well, if she hadn’t behaved the way she did, Lady Rochester would have given her a very unpleasant time. I think Lady Rochester’s an old cat. So there,” said Barbara.
Three pairs of baleful eyes stared at her. Tansy said sweetly, “It appears, dear Barbara, as if that lace Ginny gave you has not only gone to your neck”—here she gazed at Barbara’s pretty lace collar—“but to your fat head as well.”
“I don’t care,” said Barbara, beginning to cry. “I just don’t want to have anything to do with this business tonight!”
“You wouldn’t tell her about it?” asked Jeffrey, horrified.
“No,” sobbed Barbara, “I won’t tell, but I’m fed up with the whole thing. I think she’s sweet.” And with those appalling words, Barbara ran from the room, every roll of fat jiggling in distress.
“Now, let’s get one thing clear,”
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