The Visits of Elizabeth Part 16

Octavia said to me, as we went upstairs before lunch, that they were a set of cats and harpies, and she hated them all, only unfortunately the others--the nice good ones--taken _en bloc_ made things so dull, it was better to put up with this set. Then she kissed me as I went into my room and said; "At this time of the world's day, my little Elizabeth, there is no use in fighting windmills."

At luncheon Lord Valmond sat next to me; he said we had been horrid not to have wanted him to spend the morning with us, and would I let him teach me "Bridge" afterwards? I said I really was not a bit interested in cards, but he said it was a delightful game, so I said All right.

After lunch in the saloon I overheard Mrs. Murray-Hartley say to Lady Greswold that she feared this awful weather would make her party a failure, and what was she to do to amuse them this afternoon? So Lady Greswold said: "Leave 'em alone with plenty of opportunities to talk to their friends, and it will be all right." And so she did.

[Sidenote: _An Afternoon at Cards_]

Lord Valmond and I found a nice little table in a corner by the fire, and we began to turn over the cards, and presently every one disappeared, except Lady Doraine and Mr. Wertz, who played Patience or something, beyond one of the Spanish leather screens; and Lady Bobby and Lord Oldfield, who were smoking cigarettes together on the big sofa. We could just hear their voices murmuring. You can't play "Bridge" with only two people, I find, and when Lord Valmond had explained the principles to me, I was none the wiser. I suppose I was thinking of something else, and he said I was a stupid little thing, but in such a nice voice, and then we talked and did not worry about the cards. But after a while he said he thought it was draughty for me in the saloon, and it would be cosier in one of the sitting-rooms, but I would not go, Mamma, as I did not find it at all cold.

[Sidenote: _Lord Doraine intrudes_]

Then Lord Doraine came in, and went over and disturbed everybody in turn, and finally sat down by us, and Lady Bobby laughed out loud, and Lady Doraine peeped round the screen with her mischievous tortoise-sh.e.l.l cat expression, so I just said I would go and dress for tea, and came upstairs. I am sure they were all trying to make me feel uncomfortable, but I didn't a bit. I heard them shrieking with laughter as I left, and I caught a glimpse of Lord Valmond's face, and it was set as hard as iron.

Octavia wants me to wear my only other new ball dress to-night, the white gauze, so I suppose I must, and I do hope the rain will stop before we start.--With love from your affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.

_P.S._--Agnes says she won't sup downstairs, as there was so much champagne in the "room" last night that several of the valets got drunk, and she thinks it is not _distingue_.

Foljambe Place,

_Wednesday_.

[Sidenote: _Sir Hugh d'Eynecourt_]

Dearest Mamma,--Octavia is writing to you, and we have such a piece of news for you! I will tell you presently.

Part of the ball last night was quite delightful, and fortunately the rain had stopped before we started, in fact, I saw the stars shining when I looked out on my way down to tea. A new man had arrived, Sir Hugh d'Eynecourt, I remember you have often spoken of him. He is nice-looking though quite old, over forty, I should think. It appears he has been away from the world for more than two years; he has only come to this party now because Lady Bobby made him; he met her lately, and is a great friend of hers. The other men, Lord Doraine, &c., were chaffing him by the fireplace--no one else was down--and they did say such odd things. Tom asked him why he had disappeared for so long, and he said, Time was, when--if one stuck to one's own cla.s.s--to live and love was within the reach of any gentleman, but since the fashion of the long strings of pearls came in, it had become more expensive than the other cla.s.s, and he could not compete with Jews and financiers, so he had gone to live quietly in Paris. I don't know what it meant, but it seemed to amuse them all awfully.

[Sidenote: _The Perfect Height_]

When they saw me sitting on the sofa they stopped talking at once, and then began about how horrid the day had been; and Sir Hugh was introduced and asked about you. He said I was not nearly so pretty as you had been at my age, but I should do, he dared say. Then when I stood up, and he saw my height, he said that he had always thought five foot seven a perfect measure for women, so I said I did feel disappointed, as I was only five foot six and three-quarters; he laughed and whispered, "Oh yes, I am sure you will do--very well indeed." He is charming, and he says he will be an uncle to me.

At tea Octavia and he and I sat on the big sofa, and Lady Bobby did not like it a bit. She tried to talk to Lord Valmond, who was fidgeting about, looking as cross as a bear; but he would not stay still long enough to have any conversation.

[Sidenote: _The Quarrel_]

As we were going upstairs afterwards, he ran after me and said he must tell me that Sir Hugh was not at all the kind of man I ought to talk so much to, and would I promise him the first dance to-night? I said No, that I was going to give it to Sir Hugh, and that he had better mind his own business or I would not dance with him at all. I was not really angry, Mamma--because he is so nice-looking--but one is obliged to be firm with men, as I am sure you know. He turned round and stamped down the stairs again, without a word, in a pa.s.sion. At dinner, which I went in to with Mr. Wertz, Sir Hugh was at the other side, and you can't think how friendly we got. He says I am the sweetest little darling he has seen in a month of Sundays. I kept catching sight of Lord Valmond's face between the flowers--he had taken in Mrs. Murray-Hartley--and it was alternately so cross and unhappy looking, that he must have had violent indigestion.

We went to the ball in omnibuses and broughams, the usual thing; but Octavia took care that I sat between her and Lady Cecilia. Mrs.

Murray-Hartley was so beautifully dressed, and her jewels were superb, and everything in very good taste. She is really a very agreeable woman to talk to, Mamma, and one can't blame her for wanting to be in Society. It must be so much nicer than Bayswater, where they came from, and Octavia says it proves her intelligence; it is easier to rise from the gutter than from the suburbs.

Everybody had arrived when our party got to the ball. The Rooses are staying at Pennythorn, and Jane came and said to me at once how sorry she was to see me looking pale, and she hoped I would be able to enjoy myself--I wasn't pale, Mamma, I am sure, but I did feel just a teeny bit sorry I had quarrelled again with Lord Valmond. He never came near me, and everything seemed to be at sixes and sevens; people got cross because I mixed up their dances quite unintentionally, and, I don't know why, I did not enjoy myself a bit, in spite of Sir Hugh saying every sort of lovely thing to me. I had supper with him, and Lord Valmond was near with Lady Doraine, and she was being so nice to him, Mamma, leaning over and looking into his eyes, and I don't think it good form, do you? Two or three dances afterwards, when we went back to the ballroom, there was a polka; I danced it with some idiot who almost at once let yards and yards of my gauze frills get torn, so I was obliged to go to the cloak-room to have it pinned up.

[Sidenote: _An Unpleasant Incident_]

It was a long way off, and when I came out my partner had disappeared, and there was no one about but Lord Doraine, and the moment I saw him I hated the look in his eyes, they seemed all swimming; and he said in such a nasty fat voice: "Little darling, I have sent your partner away, and I am waiting for you, come and sit out with me among the palms,"

and I don't know why, but I felt frightened, and so I said, "No!" that I was going back to the ballroom. And he got nearer and nearer, and caught hold of my arm, and said, "No, no, you shall not unless you give me a kiss first." And he would not let me pa.s.s. I can't imagine why, Mamma, but I never felt so frightened in my life; and just then, walking aimlessly down the pa.s.sage, came Lord Valmond.

He saw us and came up quickly, and I was so glad to see some one, that I ran to him, as Lord Doraine let me pa.s.s directly he caught sight of Harry--I mean Lord Valmond--and he was in such a rage when he saw how I was trembling, and said, "What has that brute been saying to you?" and looked as if he wanted to go back and fight him; but I was so terrified that I could only say, "Do come away!"

[Sidenote: _The Engagement_]

We went and sat in the palm place, and there was not a soul there, as every one was dancing; and I really don't know how it happened, I was so upset about that horrid Lord Doraine, that Harry tried to comfort me, and we made up our quarrel, and--he kissed me again--and I hope you won't be very cross, Mamma; but somehow I did not feel at all angry this time. And I thought he was fond of Mrs. Smith; but it isn't, it's Me! And we are engaged. And Octavia is writing to you. And I hope you won't mind. And the post is off, so no more.--From your affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.

_P.S._--I shall get married before the Drawing Room in February, because then I can wear a tiara.

[Sidenote: _Victorine is outdone_]

_P.S. again._--Of course an English marquis is higher than a French one, so I shall walk in front of Victorine anywhere, shan't I? E.