Part 24 (2/2)
After his work at the Foreign Office was over he walked to the club, and the first man he saw on entering it was Francis Braybrooke just back from Paris. Braybrooke was buying some stamps in the hall, and greeted Craven with his usual discreet cordiality.
”I'll come in a moment,” he said. ”If you're not busy we might have a talk. I shall like to hear how you fared with Adela Sellingworth.”
Craven begged him to come, and in a few minutes they were settled in two deep arm-chairs in a quiet corner, and Craven was telling of his first visit to Berkeley Square.
”Wasn't I right?” said Braybrooke. ”Could Adela Sellingworth ever be a back number? I think that was _your_ expression.”
Craven slightly reddened.
”Was it?”
”I think so,” said Braybrooke, gently but firmly.
”I was a--a young fool to use it.”
”I fancy it's a newspaper phrase that has pushed its way somehow into the language.”
”Vulgarity pushes its way in everywhere now. Braybrooke, I want to thank you very much for your introduction to Lady Sellingworth. You were right. She has a wonderful charm. It's a privilege for a young man, as I am I suppose, to know her. To be with her makes life seem more what it ought to be, what one wants it to be.”
Braybrooke looked extremely pleased, almost touched.
”I am glad you appreciate her,” he said. ”It shows that real distinction has still a certain appeal. And so you met Beryl Van Tuyn there.”
”Do you know her?”
Braybrooke raised his eyebrows.
”Know her? How should I not know her when I am constantly running over to Paris?”
”Then I suppose she's very much 'in it' there?”
”Yes. She is criticized, of course. She lives very unconventionally, although f.a.n.n.y Cronin is always officially with her.”
”f.a.n.n.y Cronin?”
”Her _dame de compagnie_.”
”Oh, the lady who reads Paul Bourget!”
”I believe she does. Anyhow, one seldom sees her about. Beryl Van Tuyn is very audacious. She does things that no other lovely girl in her position would ever dare to do, or could do without peril to her reputation. But somehow she brings them off. Mind, I haven't a word to say against her. She is exceedingly clever and has mastered the difficult art of making people accept from her what they wouldn't accept for a moment from any other unmarried girl in society. She may be said to have a position of her own. Do you like her?”
”Yes, I think I do. She is lovely and very good company.”
”Frenchmen rave about her.”
”And Frenchwomen?”
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