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Updated: May 20, 2025
The squire came clinking along the passages, looked dully round the ballroom, and said, yawning: 'Put out the lights, Mateus, and open the windows. Where is my lady? 'My lady has gone to her room. My lady, in her orange-velvet gipsy costume and a diamond hoop in her hair, was lying in an arm-chair, her head thrown back. The squire dropped into another arm-chair, yawning broadly.
The whole table was listening. She shrugged her orange-velvet shoulders. "Those who have cast in their lot with the poor," she said, sententiously, "would recognize at once the impossibility of Miss Gresley's characters and situations." "To me they seem real," said Rachel.
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