The Real Lady Hilda - A Sketch

A smart coupé from the Coupé Company, called every afternoon, and took us out shopping and into the park; Emma’s ideas were apparently as magnificent as of yore. I was fitted out by “Ninette,” her own milliner, in a black crépon and silk, and a large French picture-hat, with black ostrich feathers—expense absolutely no object. It was not for me, a girl of eighteen, to make inquiries respecting our finances. I took for granted that the phrase “left badly off” meant at least a thousand a year. Emma had imparted to me that her auction had brought in a large sum, and that she expected the old Jam-Jam—meaning the Rajah of Jam-Jam-More—“to do something handsome for both of us.”