CHAPTER X.
“WHO ARE THESE CHALGROVES?”
I let myself in with a latchkey—Mr. Gabb’s own particular key—and crept stealthily up-stairs, hoping that Emma was asleep, and that I could thus sneak past her door unheard; but no: she was evidently on the watch for my return, and called out to me to come into her room, desiring me to “turn up the lamp, take off my cloak, and tell her all about it!”
I obediently sat down on a low chair facing her, and began to describe everything to the best of my power; the drive, the arrival, the lovely old house, the crowds, the dresses, and how Mrs. Cholmondeley had singled me out and introduced me to partners.
“Your dress is almost as fresh as ever—that is one comfort. Was Lady Hildegarde present?” inquired Emma anxiously.
“No, only Lady Polexfen. She did not notice me. But Mr. Somers was also there. He fulfilled your fondest hopes—he ‘noticed me’ a good deal.”
“What do you mean, Gwen?”
“I mean that he danced with me three or four times, took me in to supper, and finally put me into the fly.”
“That was very kind of him. Just like him!”