Once they had smiled at Zara
appearing in a hat: "And now we're all wearing them."
Another practical consideration that occurred to her she expressed with
some diffidence. "But Zara, don't you . . . I mean . . . aren't they
very draughty?"
Zara had to repeat her shocked but emphatic denial in the presence of
Mrs. Glendinning and Mrs. Urquhart, both ladies having a mind to bring
their wardrobes up to date. They agreed that there was much to be said
in favour of the appliance, over and above its novelty. Especially would
it be welcome at those times when. . . But here the speakers dropped
into woman's mysterious code of nods and signs; while Zara, turning
modestly away, pretended to count the stitches in a crochet-antimacassar.
Yes, nowadays, as Mrs. Dr. Mahony, Polly was able to introduce her
sister to a society worthy of Zara's gifts; and Zara enjoyed herself so
well that, had her berth not been booked, she might have contemplated
extending her visit. She overflowed with gracious commendation. The
house--though, of course, compared with John's splendour, a trifle
plain and poky--was a decided advance on the store; Polly herself much
improved: "You DO look robust, my dear!" And--though Zara held her
peace about this--the fact of Mahony's being from home each day, for
hours at a stretch, lent an additional prop to her satisfaction. Under
these conditions it was possible to keep on good terms with her
brother-in-law.
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