The Visits of Elizabeth. Glyn Elinor
Horse Show was rather nice; it is held in the park fairly close, and most of us strolled there in the morning before lunch to see the judging. Lord Valmond joined us, I was walking with Lord George Lane (you remember he was one of the Eleven at Nazeby). I was in a very good temper, Mamma, and we had been laughing at everything we said. He is quite a nice idiot, but, when Lord Valmond came, of course I talked as stiffly as possibly, and presently Lord George told him that he was singularly backward in copybook maxims, and that there was one he ought to write out and commit to memory, and it began with "Two's Company," upon which Lord Valmond stalked on in a rage.
The seats at the show were very hard boards, and the sun made one awfully drowsy; but about half-an-hour before lunch Lord Valmond came up again, and asked me if I should not like to go for a turn. I thought I had better, so as not to get cramp. He said he had been afraid he would never get the chance of speaking to me, I was always so surrounded. I told him I had only come now because of the cramp. I am quite determined, Mamma, not to unbend to him at all. I was not once agreeable, or anything but stiff and snubbing, and I am sure he has never been treated like that before, but it is awfully hard work keeping it up all the time, and when we got in to lunch I was quite tired.
On the Lake
There were numbers of people at the show in the afternoon, and all in their best clothes. Lady Grace Fenton was showing two of her hunters, and she kept shouting to the grooms, and I did not think it was very attractive behaviour. She takes such strides you would think her muslin dress would split. I don't know why it is that so many people in the country are ugly and weather-beaten, and all their clothes hanging wrong.
Except the house party here, and a few from other big places, there was not a pretty person to be seen. We had a special reserved tent for tea, and Mrs. Westaway seemed to have every man in the place round her, and I heard one man come up and say, "Well, Phyllis, this is a joke to find you in this respectable hole; how do you like solid matrimony, old girl?" and I do think that sounded familiar and rude, don't you, Mamma? but Mrs. Westaway wasn't a bit angry. She calls Billy "Duckie," and continually pats and caresses him; he does look such a fool, and I should hate to be fingered like that if I were a man, one must feel like a bunch of grapes with the bloom being rubbed off. Mrs. Westaway kept Lord Valmond with her all the rest of the time at the show, and then took him on the lake while we played croquet.
Lady Bobby went straight to her room and sat by the window, and every now and then shouted advice to Lord George who was playing with me. When we had finished, Lady Westaway took me to see the conservatories, and there we were joined by old Colonel Blake and Lord Valmond, I don't know how he had torn himself away from Mrs. Westaway! Jane Roose says Mrs. Smith would be mad if she was here. He asked me why I had walked on ahead so fast on the way back from the Show as he wanted me to go on the lake with him instead of Mrs. Westaway. When he had suggested going on it he had looked at me, but I would take no notice, and so he was obliged to go with Mrs. Westaway when she offered to come, and I was very unkind and disagreeable. I just said if he found me so, he need not speak to me at all, I did not care. We looked at one another like two wild cats for a moment. I am sure he wanted to slap me, and I should like to have scratched him, and then Lady Westaway diverted the conversation by asking me if I thought I should enjoy my French visit (how every one knows one's affairs!). I said I hoped I should, and I was starting next week. Lord Valmond at once pricked up his ears, and said he would be running over to Paris about then, as he was not going to Scotland till September, and he hoped I would let him look after me on the way. I said I did not know which day I was going, probably Wednesday, so as I am starting on Monday, Mamma, there will be no chance of his coming with me, which would annoy you very much I am sure. To-day we have done nothing but loll about and play croquet. Lady Bobby and the men and some other women went to the Show again in the morning, but I was having a match with Jane Roose, and so we did not bother to go.
Paul and Virginia
This afternoon when Lady Bobby began her rabbit shooting it seemed so dangerous on the croquet lawn, especially after she hit the gardener, that we all went on the lake in the launch. We landed on the island, and somehow or other Lord Valmond and I got left alone in the Belvedere looking at the view. The others went off without us, which made me furious, as I am sure he did it on purpose. But when I accused him of it, he said such a thing would never have entered his head. He had a nasty smile all the time in the corner of his eye, and did not take the least pains about trying to undo the other little boat which we found at last, although I kept telling him we should be late for dinner. He said he wished we had not to go back at all, that he thought we should be very happy together on this little island like Paul and Virginia. I can't tell you, Mamma, what a temper I was in.
The Hardships of a Marquis
I wish I had never met him—or that he had not been rude at Nazeby—it is so difficult to behave with dignity when a person has a nice voice and makes you laugh, although you are awfully cross with him inside. Then I have to be thinking all the time about my dimple not to let it come out, as that is what caused his rudeness, and with one thing and another it upsets me so, that my cheeks are always burning when I am with him, and I feel as if I should like to box his ears or cry; and I hope after to-morrow I shall never see him again. He rowed so slowly when we did get into the boat that I offered to do it, but he would not let me. I would not talk to him at all. When we got to the landing I jumped out so that he should not help me, and gave my head a crack against the pole in the boat house. I fancied I heard him saying, "Darling! have you hurt yourself? What a brute I am to tease you!" but I did not wait for any more. I ran to the house as fast as I could, and as he had to tie up the boat, I was just getting into the hall when he caught me up. My head hurt dreadfully, and I was so tired and cross, and everything, that the tears would come into my eyes. I did not want him to see, but I am afraid he did, so before he could speak I rushed on again and got safely to my room. I am sure it is very rude to call people "darling" without their leave, isn't it, Mamma?
I went in to dinner with a sporting curate who lives near, and he kept making his bread into crumbs on the cloth and then sweeping them up with his knife into a heap, between every course. What strange habits people have! After dinner Mrs. Westaway took Lord Valmond and sat in the window seat, and when he did get away, and was coming over to me, I said my head was aching from the knock I gave it, and came up to bed, and as he has to catch an early train in the morning I shan't come down until he has gone. I don't want to see him any more, it is too fatiguing quarrelling all the time, and one could not forgive him and be friends I suppose after such behaviour as his at Nazeby—could one, Mamma?
Now good-night; I am sleepy.—Your affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.
P.S.—I should hate to be a marquis always having to take the hostess in to dinner no matter how old and ugly she is, just because a duke isn't present.
CHÂTEAU DE CROIXMARE
Château De Croixmare,
16th August.
A Formidable Godmother
Dearest Mamma—What a crossing we had, perfectly disgusting! The sky was without a cloud, but such a wind that every one was sick, so one could not enjoy oneself. Agnès became rapidly French too directly we landed at Dieppe, and the carriage was full of stuffy people, who would not have a scrap of window open; however, Jean was waiting for us at Paris. We snatched some food at the restaurant, and then caught the train to Vinant. Jean is quite good-looking, but with an awfully respectable expression. Any one could tell he was married even without looking at his wedding ring. He was polite, and made conversation all the time in the train, and as the engine kept puffing and shrieking I was obliged to continually say "Pardon?" so it made it rather heavy. I think he has changed a good deal since their wedding—let me see—that must be eight years ago, as I was nine then; I hardly remembered him.
Godmamma was waiting for us in the hall when we arrived. Château de Croixmare is a nice place, but I am glad I am not French. It was the hottest night of the year almost, and not a breath of air in