So I travelled down in expensive seclusion, wearing for the first time one of my new costumes, a real success in thick tobacco-brown silk, with a duck of a little brown hat to match. Cicely chose that out of a big boxful “on approval” from Madame Chérisette’s.
Even without Cicely’s gratifying gush on the subject, I can’t help knowing that the smoky-cream underlining and the trimming—a cream-coloured feathery mount and a knot of dull-pink buds—are delightfully becoming to a clear brunette complexion and glossy black hair.
Thanks to my being an easy-to-fit small “stock size,” I’ve got a really charming little trousseau together at very short notice. As it’s probably the only trousseau of any sort that I shall ever possess now (I wonder what Sydney Vandeleur thought of my note?), I selected it with gusto, and I mean to enjoy the wearing of every stitch of it, from the fur-lined motor-wrap to those American-pattern nighties that the girl in the shop said were “so sweetly bridal-looking, Moddam.”
It’s been such ages since I was able to choose and arrange a kit with garments for separate occasions and with a definite colour-scheme; it’s so long I’ve been, not “dressed,” but “covered”—yes! covered in patches with something in navy-blue that I’ve managed to afford at one time; something in brown that I’ve “had to have” at another time; something black that I’ve just “had by me.”
But now I shall be able to look “together” once more in my favourite harmonies of soft browns, creams and pinks. A dream of mine on my way to the office has come true at last; it’s a dream of a thick, clover-pink linen suit, with touches of heavy creamy lace in just the right places. In just the right places, too, it fits or falls away from me; and I don’t think even the feminine edition of Still Waters will be able to help being rather impressed by it!
As for Sydney Vandeleur, I know he would have said——
* * * * *
I’ve been wondering whether after all I need have sent that curt note to Sydney? Of course, I was furious with him, first for coming too late, and secondly for proposing at all after I was powerless to accept him—he didn’t know that; but what a position he put me into!
Could I have put an end to it? (My thoughts raced on with the train.)