London, having become inured to American marvels--Milly's bit of it--accepted and enjoyed Uncle James and all the sumptuous attributes of his Dakota.
English people would swallow anything sometimes, Mrs.Monson commented sagely, and yet sometimes they stared and evidently thought you were lying about the simplest things.

Milly's corner of South Kensington had gulped down the Dakota uncle.

Her managing in this way, if there was no uncle, was too clever and amusing.

She had left her mother at home to scrimp and save, and by hook or by crook she had contrived to get a number of quite good things to wear.

She wore them with such an air of accustomed resource that the jewels might easily--mixed with some relics of her mother's better days--be of the order of the clever little Parisian diamond crescent.