CHAPTER XIV
It would have astonished Tydvil Jones considerably had he known that his wife, also, had departed from the rules of her rigorous upbringing. With fluttering excitement at what she considered a far more heinous lapse than that of the curate who finished a day out by returning home in a smoking carriage, Amy had accompanied her new and distinguished acquaintance to Menzies.
During the time they, waited in the lounge, and afterwards in the great dining-room, with its gaily plumaged women and their squires, it gave her a thrill of feline satisfaction to observe the admiring eyes that followed her escort.
But there was one thorn in her bouquet of roses. For the first time in her life, she was conscious that her Spartan simplicity of dress made her feel there was no other word for
