Whether the young lady really enjoys playing the prodigal daughter at
home and in the country, and what her noble relatives have to say about
it.
Whether there are not some sinister rumours going about concerning the
politician in question.
Jane's mother, who had arrived in London only the day before, was in
Charles Street before her prodigal daughter had finished breakfast. She
brandished a copy of the paper in her hand. Jane read the three
paragraphs and let the paper slip from her fingers as though she had
been handling an unclean thing. She rang the bell and pointed to where
it lay upon the floor.
"Take that into the servants' hall and let it be destroyed, Parkins,"
she ordered.
The Duchess held her peace until the man had left the room. Then she
turned resolutely to Jane.
"My dear," she said, "that's posing. Besides, it's indiscreet. Parkins
will read it, of course, and it's what that sort of person reads,
nowadays, that counts. We can't afford it. The aristocracy has had its
fling. To-day we are on our good behaviour."
"I should have thought," Jane declared, "that in these democratic days
the best thing we could do would be to prove ourselves human like other
people.
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