“You can hardly compare her with Jemima,” Freddy growled.
“No, of course not, but she was a woman. And Jemima was so pleased with her clothes when we had bought them for her.”
“She looked very lovely in them,” Freddy muttered, but beneath his breath so that the Viscount had not heard him.
Jemima, from one point of view, did not miss her clothes.
She had worn them because she wanted to look attractive in the Viscount’s eyes, but she always had the uncomfortable feeling that he would not have noticed if she had been in sackcloth and ashes!
What did worry her, when she thought about it, was how she would ever be able to replace the clothes she did have when they were completely worn out and even if she made her gowns herself, as she had done before, they would still cost money.
She reme
