removed a cigarette-case from her bag, extracted a cigarette, and prepared to light it.
O, Ella, you aren't going to smoke! Lou protested.
I always do. You know that. You've seen me often enough in Paris. Again the Countess, who by nature was hot-tempered and headstrong, adopted a vaguely propitiatory tone.
But not here. You wouldn't smoke here!
Must I go to the bathroom? The Countess laughed nervously. On the train I smoked in the toilet.
O, not there, either. What would the servants think? I mean you wouldn't smoke in Maple Valley. . . .
The Countess made a swift decision. I can't be bothered, Lou, about the servants, or any one else. They'll all have to get used to me. I can't do without my cigarette. Why, grandmother smoked a pipe.
She struck a match and lighted her cigarette, while Lou's face assumed an expression which might have implied either horror or shame.
The Countess went on, lightly, What then, if not dinners?
Although Lou employed an aggrieved tone, she answered readily enough (she, too, was making an effort to be pleasant): I'm giving a reception for you tomorrow afternoon. There'll be more receptions, and kettle-drums, and euchre- and cinch-
