Explore "Blanche" by Mary Louisa Molesworth on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When the door was thrown open, and the butler's sonorous tones announcing Mrs and Miss Derwent made the occupants of the room turn round, and the short, stout figure of their hostess came waddling towards all illusion was dispelled, and with a little sigh Blanche's mother came back to the very different present.
Lady Harriot, whose manners, as I have indicated, were not exactly "grande dame," looked, and honestly was, a little perplexed.