This is the book which, when first published, made Mr. Anthony Hope's reputation as a writer of social comedies. Dolly, Lady Mickleham, is the first of the witty and irresponsible ladies who for the last decade have enlivened English fiction. She is also by far the best, and the gravest reader is captivated by the grace and humour of the Dialogues.
not that I write such stories, or any stories, but Lady Mickleham invites an apologetic attitude), and my eye wandered to the table. I saw nothing worse (or better) than the morning paper there.
"Contained in a friend's letter," she continued, focusing the "starers" full on my face.
I did not know what to do, so I bowed again.
"It must have been as painful for her to write as for me to read," Lady Mickleham went on. "And that is saying much. Be seated, pray."
I bowed, and sat down in one of the straight-back chairs. I also began, in my fright, to play with one of the pieces of embroidery.
"Is Lady Jane's work in your way?" (Lady Jane is named after Jane, the famous Countess, Lady-in-Waiting to Caroline of Anspach.)
I dropped the embroidery, and put my foot on my hat.
"I believe, Mr. Carter, that you are acquainted with Miss Dorothea Foster?"
"I have that pleasure," said I.
"Who is about to be married to my son, the Earl of Mickleham?"