Go back," she said to the coachman, "by Highgate and Hampstead." Fanny's eyes rested on the shabby cloak with a well-founded distrust of it as a protection against the autumn weather.

She ventured to suggest that her mistress might feel the loss (in an open carriage) of the warm mantle which she had left on Rhoda's shoulders.
Iris made light of the doubt expressed by her maid.

But by the time they had passed Highgate, and had approached the beginning of the straight road which crosses the high ridge of Hampstead Heath, she was obliged to acknowledge that she did indeed feel the cold.

"You ought to be a good walker," she said, looking at her maid's firm well-knit figure.

"Exercise is all I want to warm me.