'But the new Rosinas generally do scream.

Why do we have a new Rosina every year, whom nobody ever hears of afterwards?
What becomes of them?
Do they die, or do they set up as singing mistresses in second-rate watering-places ?' hazarded her ladyship, with her eye always on the door.
She was a large woman in amethyst satin, and a gauze turban with a diamond aigrette, a splendid jewel, which would not have misbeseemed the head-gear of an Indian prince.

Lady Denyer was one of the last women who wore a turban, and that Oriental head-dress became her bold and massive features.
Infinitely bored by the whiskerless attache, who had entered upon a disquisition on the genius of Rossini as compared with this new man Meyerbeer, her ladyship made believe to hear, while she listened intently to the confidential murmurs of the group on the hearthrug, the little knot of personages clustered round Lord Denyer.

Hi 'Indian mail in this morning,' said one--'nothing else talked of at the club.

Very flagrant case! A good deal worse than Warren Hastings.