Georgiana. Look to me kinder as if you thought good news was in the
wind!

[_She glances at her surreptitiously, but down again quickly,
frightened._

GEORGIANA. Why, Bella?

BELLA. Oh, that's just my idea, that's all. What might this picture be?
Shall we say--er--er--Michael Ange?

GEORGIANA. [_Suppressing a smile._] No, that is a Van Dyck.

BELLA. Of course! I might have known! [_Writing._] This entire room is a
fine bit, ain't it? All Louis--[_She looks back in her book._] 16, as a
piece, I suppose?

GEORGIANA. Yes.

BELLA. So I see! My! How I love all this kind of thing. I couldn't live
without a lot o' bric-a-brah lying around sort of careless like and
undusted. These tapestries are real, I presume?

GEORGIANA. Yes.

BELLA. I thought so! I got a beautiful piece of tapestry over my
washstand, hand-painted, and all the faces and clothes outlined in
chenille cross-stitch by the Singer Sewing Machine--but it's not quite
the same as yours.