Pole, the lady who has so much yellow hair, takes lemonade. That
old Mr. Emerson, who puts things very strangely--"

Her jaw dropped. She was silent. Mr. Beebe, whose social
resources were endless, went out to order some tea, and she
continued to Lucy in a hasty whisper:

"Stomach. He warned Miss Pole of her stomach-acidity, he called
it--and he may have meant to be kind. I must say I forgot myself
and laughed; it was so sudden. As Teresa truly said, it was no
laughing matter. But the point is that Miss Lavish was positively
ATTRACTED by his mentioning S., and said she liked plain
speaking, and meeting different grades of thought. She thought
they were commercial travellers--'drummers' was the word she
used--and all through dinner she tried to prove that England, our
great and beloved country, rests on nothing but commerce. Teresa
was very much annoyed, and left the table before the cheese,
saying as she did so: 'There, Miss Lavish, is one who can confute
you better than I,' and pointed to that beautiful picture of Lord
Tennyson. Then Miss Lavish said: 'Tut! The early Victorians.'
Just imagine! 'Tut! The early Victorians.' My sister had gone,
and I felt bound to speak. I said: 'Miss Lavish, I am an early
Victorian; at least, that is to say, I will hear no breath of
censure against our dear Queen.' It was horrible speaking. I
reminded her how the Queen had been to Ireland when she did not
want to go, and I must say she was dumbfounded, and made no
reply. But, unluckily, Mr. Emerson overheard this part, and
called in his deep voice: 'Quite so, quite so! I honour the woman
for her Irish visit.' The woman! I tell things so badly; but you
see what a tangle we were in by this time, all on account of S.