” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. Wood," said the lady bridling up, "my request may, perhaps, have some weight with you. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. \"The servants will hear you!\" \"I don't care! Why do you?” She cried. “I should make sure that he doesn’t try to drive himself home. Certainly not a gentlewoman. She smiled at the sight of him, and thereat his radiation increased.
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