I am reminded of one of the Outlander books, where Claire's sister-in-law gives her the "guest" treatment:
There was a large pitcher of hot water standing by the ewer, gently steaming, and a fresh cake of soap laid alongside it.
I picked it up and sniffed. Fine-milled French soap, perfumed with lily of the valley, it was a delicate comment on my status in the household—honored guest, to be sure; but not one of the family, who would all make do as a matter of course with the usual coarse soap made of tallow and lye. “Right,” I muttered. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”
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There was a large pitcher of hot water standing by the ewer, gently steaming, and a fresh cake of soap laid alongside it.
I picked it up and sniffed. Fine-milled French soap, perfumed with lily of the valley, it was a delicate comment on my status in the household—honored guest, to be sure; but not one of the family, who would all make do as a matter of course with the usual coarse soap made of tallow and lye. “Right,” I muttered. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”