“Well, to be sure, Lavvy, ’tis pleasant to sit here and admire all the people!” exclaimed Mrs. Fleming, for perhaps the twentieth time. “I declare I am grown positively old-fashioned from having lived for so long in the country!⁠—yes, my dear, positively old-fashioned!⁠ ⁠… I cannot but marvel at the great hoops everyone is wearing! I am sure mine is not half the size of yours, and the lady down there in the stage-box has one even larger!”

Lavinia directed her gaze towards the box in question. At any other time she would have been annoyed to see that the occupant was Lady Carlyle, her pet rival in all matters of fashion. Now she felt that nothing signified, and merely remarked that she considered those absurd garlands of roses on the dress quite grotesque.

Behind, Holt was directing Mr. Fleming’s attention to a box at the back of the house.