"
"I can't even pick out my own clothes?"
"You lack even the rudiments of good taste."
"What's wrong with my clothes?" she demanded.
"Everything," said he, succinctly, and with visible irritation. He
remembered the wedding-gown, and his face twitched. She watched him
intently.
"Oh, all right. I said I'd obey, an' I will. I ain't forgettin',"
said she, wearily.
"Very well. I am glad you understand." He closed his eyes, and
understanding that the interview was at an end, Nancy withdrew.
Mrs. MacGregor arrived on the morrow. The attorney had been given
explicit orders and instructions by his exacting client, who had his
own notions of what a teacher for his niece should and shouldn't be.
Vandervelde congratulated himself on having been able to meet them
so completely in the person of the estimable Mrs. MacGregor.
Mr. Champneys demanded a lady middle-aged but not too middle-aged,
not overly handsome, but not overly otherwise; an excellent
disciplinarian, of a good family, and with impeccable references.
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