Part 10 (1/2)

I said ”Yes.”

She did not appear to want many answers from me after this, but prattled on about people and the world in general, and before half an hour was over I was left with the impression that society is chiefly composed of people living upon an agreeable and amusing ground somewhere at the borderland of the divorce court.

”So tiresome of the husbands!” she concluded. ”Before the war they used to be the most docile creatures; as long as they got a percentage, and the wives did not worry at their own little affairs, all went smoothly. Now, since going out there and fighting, they have come back giving themselves great airs, and talking about wounded honor, and ridiculous things of that sort that one reads of in early Victorian books. One does not know where it will end.”

She yawned a little after this, and Lord Tilchester shuffled up and sat down in the corner of the sofa near her. He has the manner of an awkward school-boy.

”You are taking away every one's character, as usual, I suppose, Babykins,” he chuckled. ”What will Mrs. Gurrage think of it all, I wonder?”

Lady Tilchester interrupted further conversation by carrying me off to see the garden. She is the most fascinating personality I have yet met. There is something like the sun's rays about her--you feel warmed and comforted when she is near. She looks so great and n.o.ble, and above all common things, one cannot help wondering why she married Lord Tilchester, who is quite ordinary. When she talks, every one listens. Her voice is like golden bells, and she never says stupid things that mean nothing. We had half an hour in the glorious garden, and she made me feel that life was a fair thing, and that even I should find bits to smile over. How great to have a nature like this, that one's very presence does good to other human beings!

”There are a lot of tiresome people here, I am afraid,” she said, at last; ”but I wanted you to come to the first party we had after our return, so you must try and not be bored. You shall sit next Mr. Budge to-night; he will be obliged to take in Lady Lambourne, but I will put you on the other side. He will amuse you; he is the cleverest man I know.”

”Mr. Budge is a politician, is he not?” I asked. ”I think I have heard his name.”

”That is delightful,” she laughed, ”Poor Mr. Budge! He--and, indeed, many of us in England--fancies there is no other name to be heard. He has a fault, though. He writes sentimental poetry which is complete rubbish, and he prides himself upon it far more than upon his splendid powers of oratory or wonderful organization capacities.”

”What a strange side for a great man to have!” I said. ”Sentimental poetry--it seems so childish, does it not?”

”We all have our weaknesses, I suppose,” and she smiled. ”We should be very dull if we left nothing for our friends to criticise.”

”_Si nous n'avions point de defauts nous ne prendrions pas tant de plaisir a en remarquer dans les autres!_” I quoted.

After a while we went back to the house.

Augustus and I got down at half-past eight for dinner, as grandmamma had always told me that punctuality is a part of politeness, but only one or two men were standing by the huge wood-fire that burns all the time in the open fireplace in the salon where we a.s.sembled.

We did not know any of their names, and I suppose they did not know ours. We stared at one another, and they went on talking again, all about the war. Augustus joined in. He is dreadfully uneasy in case the rest of the Tilchester Yeomanry may volunteer at last to go out, and was anxious to hear their views of the possibility. I sat down upon a fat-pillowed sofa, one of those nice kind that puff out again slowly when you get up, and make you feel at rest any way you sit.

A short man with a funny face came and sat beside me.

”What a wonderful lady, to be so punctual!” he said. ”You evidently don't know the house. We shall be lucky if we get dinner at nine o'clock.”

”Why did you come down, then,” I asked, ”since you are acquainted with the ways?”

”On the off chance, and because a bad habit of youth sticks to me, and I can't help being on time.”

”I am finding it absurd to have acquired habits in youth; they are all being upset,” I said.

He had such a cheery face, in spite of being so ugly, it seemed quite easy to talk to him. We chatted lightly until some one called out: ”Billy, do ring and ask if we can have a biscuit and a gla.s.s of sherry, to keep us up until we get dinner.”

At that moment--it was nearly nine--more people strolled in, two women with their husbands, and several odd pairs--the last among the single people quite the loveliest creature I have ever seen. She does not know how to walk, her lips were almost magenta with some stuff on them, but her eyes flashed round at every one, and there seemed to be a flutter among the men by the fireplace.

Augustus dropped his jaw with admiration. She had on a bright purple dress and numbers of jewels. I feel sure he was saying to himself that she was a ”stunner.” She did not look at all vulgar, however, only wicked and attractive and delightful.

”Darling Let.i.tia,” she pleaded, to a stiff-looking old woman sitting bolt-upright under a lamp, ”don't glare at me so. I am not the last to-night; there are still Babykins and Margaret and several others to come.”

”Oh, Lord, how hungry I am!” announced Mr. Budge, in a loud voice. I recognized him now from his picture being so often in the papers.

Then, from a door at the other end, in tripped Babykins, and close behind her Lord Tilchester, and, last of all, when the clock had struck nine-fifteen, and even the funny-faced man next me had exhausted all his conversation, the door at the north end of the salon opened, and serenely, like a lovely s.h.i.+p, our beautiful hostess sailed towards us.