’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. What is there?” “Tristan. The expression pervading the countenance of the one was vulgarity; of the other, that which is rarely found, except in persons of high birth. It’s Providence. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. Can you wonder that I expect you to fulfil yours?” “I am not aware,” she answered, “that I have ever failed in doing so.
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