As for Loona
Bimberton, she refused to look at an illustrated paper for weeks,
and her letter of thanks for the gift of a tiger-claw brooch was a
model of repressed emotions. The luncheon-party she declined;
there are limits beyond which repressed emotions become dangerous.
From Curzon Street the tiger-skin rug travelled down to the Manor
House, and was duly inspected and admired by the county, and it
seemed a fitting and appropriate thing when Mrs. Packletide went
to the County Costume Ball in the character of Diana. She refused
to fall in, however, with Clovis's tempting suggestion of a
primeval dance party, at which every one should wear the skins of
beasts they had recently slain. "I should be in rather a Baby
Bunting condition," confessed Clovis, "with a miserable rabbit-
skin or two to wrap up in, but then," he added, with a rather
malicious glance at Diana's proportions, "my figure is quite as
good as that Russian dancing boy's."
"How amused every one would be if they knew what really happened,"
said Louisa Mebbin a few days after the ball.
"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Packletide quickly.
"How you shot the goat and frightened the tiger to death," said
Miss Mebbin, with her disagreeably pleasant laugh.
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