They're angry with her for asking,
but she had to, you see. When they go past us in the dining-room they
turn their backs."
Hugh's attention was arrested now.
"Do they dine?" he asked. "Every night?"
"Oh yes, always. Mademoiselle has lovely dresses. She is pretty, but the
Comtesse is such an ugly old lady; like Red Riding Hood's grandmother, I
think. I'm afraid of her. Jane says _her_ Madame and Monsieur don't
believe she's really a Comtesse. I had to knock at her door with a
letter from Angel to-day, for Angel doesn't know I'm afraid. I couldn't
help being glad Madame wouldn't let me in, for it seemed as if she might
eat me up. I knocked and knocked, and when I was going away, I saw
Mademoiselle coming in, in a pink dress with a rosy hat."
"I think she'll pay your mother back to-morrow," said Hugh, remembering
the fatness of the pink bag.
"She didn't say she would. She was so cross with me that she called me a
_petit bete_, and snatched the letter out of my hand."
At this, Hugh's face grew suddenly hot and red, and he muttered
something under his breath.
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