“I hope you will approve of them,” her grandmother replied, “and I have brought quite a number for you, my dearest.”
“Oh, Grandmama, how delightful! Papa has promised me some new ones to wear when we go to London, but I know that nothing could be as smart as what is obtainable in Paris!”
“You shall judge for yourself,” the Dowager said.
She paused as she scrutinised her granddaughter, thinking as she did so that she was even lovelier than she remembered.
It would in fact have been difficult for anyone who met her, unless he was blind, not to think that Yursa had stepped out of a fairy story.
Her small oval face was dominated by two huge eyes which, instead of being blue, to match her father’s, as might have been expected, were a strange mixture of grey with a touch of gold.
When, how
