'Your grandmother
said you were to have _carte blanche_. She may think that you have been
just a little extravagant; but she can hardly be angry with you for
having taken her at her word. Two thousand pounds! Yes, it certainly is
rather stiff.'
'Seraphine is a cheat!' exclaimed Lesbia, angrily. 'Her prices are
positively exorbitant!'
'My dear child, you must not say that. Seraphine is positively moderate
in comparison with the new people.'
'And Mr. Cabochon, too. The idea of his charging me three hundred
guineas for re-setting those stupid old amethysts.'
'My dear, you _would_ have diamonds mixed with them,' said Lady
Kirkbank, reproachfully.
Lesbia turned away her head with an impatient sigh. She remembered
perfectly that it was Lady Kirkbank who had persuaded her to order the
diamond setting; but there was no use in talking about it now. The thing
was done. She was two thousand pounds in debt--two thousand pounds to
these two people only--and there were ever so many shops at which she
had accounts--glovers, bootmakers, habit-makers, the tailor who made her
Newmarket coats and cloth gowns, the stationer who supplied her with
note-paper of every variety, monogrammed, floral; sporting, illuminated
with this or that device, the follies of the passing hour, hatched by
penniless Invention in a garret, pandering to the vanities of the idle.
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