"There is no one here."
"Serve you right if there had been," Mr. Bullsom declared, gruffly.
"A pretty state to come down in the morning at past nine o'clock."
Selina tossed her head.
"I am going to dress directly after breakfast," she remarked.
"Then if you'll allow me to say so," her father declared, "before
breakfast is the time to dress, and not afterwards. You're always the
same, Selina, underdressed when you think there's no one around to see
you, and overdressed when there is."
Selina poured herself out some coffee and yawned.
"La, papa, what do you know about it?" she exclaimed.
"What my eyes tell me," Mr. Bullsom declared, sternly. "You've no
allowance to keep to. You've leave to spend what you want, and you're
never fit to be seen. There's Mary there taking thirty pounds a year
from me, and won't have a penny more, though she's heartily welcome to
it, and she looks a lady at any moment of the day."
Selina drew herself up, and her eyes narrowed a little.
"You're talking about what, you don't understand, pa," she answered with
dignity. "If you prefer Mary's style of dress"--she glanced with silent
disparagement at her cousin's grey skirt and plain white blouse--"well,
it's a matter of taste, isn't it?
"Taste!" Mr.
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