She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. "Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. She seemed just as stiff and shy as a girl ought to be, Lady Palsworthy thought, neither garrulous nor unready, and free from nearly all the heavy aggressiveness, the overgrown, overblown quality, the egotism and want of consideration of the typical modern girl. He will be sorry when he knows who I am,’ decided Melusine with satisfaction. Practically it was most of the chief interests in life that she proposed to settle in this pedestrian meditation. ‘Me, I am Mademoiselle Charvill, the granddaughter of Monsieur Jar-vis Re-men-ham. ’ ‘He doesn’t sound like a desirable parti.
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