Meanwhile in London Bertie Lee-Harrison was celebrating the Feast of Tabernacles as best he could.
He had given up with considerable reluctance his plan of living in a tent, the resources of his flat in Albert Hall Mansions not being able to meet the scheme.
He consoled himself by visits to the handsome succouth which the Montague Cohens had erected in their garden in the Bayswater Road.
CHAPTER XI.
I do not like this manner of a dance,
This game of two and two; it were much better
To mix between the pauses than to sit
Each lady out of earshot with her friend.
Swinburne: Chastelard.
The Leunigers were giving a dance at the beginning of November, and the female part of the household was greatly taken up with preparations for the event.
There was much revising of invitation lists, discussion of the social claims of their friends and acquaintance, and the usual anxious beating up of every available dancing-man.
“Addie will bring Mr. Griffiths, and Esther Mr. Peck,” said Rose. “They go well, look nice, and one sees them everywhere, although Reuben calls them ‘outsiders.’”
Rose loved dances, as well she might, for from the first she had been a success.
Rose, with her fair, plump shoulders and blonde hair, her high spirits and good-nature, her nimble feet and nimble tongue; Rose with her £50,000 and twenty guinea ball-gowns; Rose went down—magic phrase!—as not one girl in ten succeeds in doing.