My Lady Bountiful by Fred M. White

Mrs. Wiltshire was a sort of faded copy of her sister. It was painfully evident from the first that she had lost her grip of the family dignity. An Eldred of a Wolfram who had in a fit of temporary aberration thoughtlessly married a common place type like the major ought to have made up for the hiatus by frequent snubbings, but here was a decadent Saxon who not only respected her husband, but actually deferred to him in most things. Kathleen's photographic eye recorded the fact immediately.

-"You are well, I trust," Mrs. Eldred-Wolfram, said, with a frosty peck at her sister's cheek and a sigh. To be well under such circumstances was almost outrage. "Yes, I see you are. You are very much tanned, and you have actually a colour. The same remark might apply to you, sir."