When they come,
there is no need to say that I am here, unless, of course, Mr. Traill
asks you. You'd better go and change your dress at once."
Then she turned to Mrs. Butterick.
"You've taken off the chintz covers?" she said.
"Yes, madam."
"Ordered the flowers?"
"Yes, madam."
"Well, now, what have you got in for lunch?"
"There's some lamb, madam."
"Well--that's no good--I'd better tell you what I want. A heavy lunch
like that is impossible. I want all dainty little dishes--something
out of the common, I leave it entirely to you. Four courses will be
enough. And Sauterne and Burgundy. Tell Taylor we'll have coffee in
the dining-room. Now my hair, Mason."
So she marshalled forces, occupied positions and concentrated
artillery in preparation for the siege. The generalship of a woman
is never so keen, so instinct with strategy, as when she gives battle
against another of her sex. Her campaign against men, when once she
takes up arms, is mimic warfare--a sham fight--compared to this.
Against a man, she needs but a company of fascinations, and in one
attack his squares--the stern veterans of determination--are driven
to flight. But with a woman, whole regiments of cunning, whole
battalions of craft, with all the well-trained scouts of intuition
and all the dashing cavalries of charm, are needed to rout her
absolutely from the field.
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