Miss Breezy rocked to and fro, gripping her cup. How often had she shuddered at the sight of scantily dressed precocious girls sitting in alarming attitudes on the shiny paper of the Tatler. To think of Lola in underclothes, debasing a highly respectable name! Nevertheless, “I am not to be bullied,” she said, wobbling like a turkey. “I have always given way to you before, Lola, but in this case my mind is made up. Can’t you understand how awkward it would be to have you in the house on a level with servants who have to be kept in order by me? It would undermine my authority.” That was the point, and it was a good one. And then her starchiness left her under the horror of the alternative. “As for that other thing,—well, you couldn’t go a better way to kill your poor mother and surely you don’t want to do that?”
“Of course I don’t, Auntie.”
“There’s no call for you to think about any way of earning a living, Lola. Your parents don’t want to get rid of you, Heaven knows, and even in these bad times they can get along very nicely and keep you too. You know that.”
Lola had never dreamed of this adamantine attitude. Her aunt had been so easy to manage before. What was she to do?
Thinking that she was winning, Miss Breezy went at it again. “Come, now. Be a good child and forget both these schemes. Go on with your classes and it won’t be long before a suitable person will turn up and ask you to marry him. Your type marries young. Now, will you promise me to think no more about it all?”
But this was Lola’s only chance to enter the first stage of her crusade. She would fight for it to the last gasp. “The chorus, yes,” she said. “As for the other thing, no, Auntie. If you won’t help me I must get the paper in the morning and search through the advertisements. I’m sure to come across some one who wants a lady’s maid and after all, it won’t very much matter who it is. You see, I want to earn my living, and I have made up my mind to do it in this way. There’s good pay, a beautiful house to live in, no early trains to catch, no bad weather to go through, holidays in the country and with any luck foreign travel. I can’t understand why many more girls like me don’t go in for this sort of life. I only thought, of course, it would be so nice to be under your eye and guidance. Mother would much prefer it to be that way, I’m sure.”
But even this practical argument had no effect except to rouse the good lady’s dander. “You are a very nagging girl,” she cried. “I can see perfectly well what you’re driving at but you won’t undermine my decision, I can tell you that. I will not have you in this house and that’s final.”
Lola was beaten. To her astonishment and chagrin she found that her nail was not to be hammered in. There was steel in the old lady’s composition, after all. But there was steel in her own and she quickly decided to leave things as they stood and think out another line of attack before the following Thursday. And then, remembering Ernest Treadwell, who was living up to his name from one end of the street to the other and back, she rose to tear herself away with an air of great patience and affection. Just as she was about to bend down and touch the usual ear with her lips, the door suddenly swung open and a woman with bobbed hair, wearing a red velvet tam-o’-shanter and a curious one-piece garment of brown velvet which disclosed a pair of very admirable legs, stood smiling in the doorway. Her face was as white as the petals of a white rose. Her large violet eyes had lashes as black as her eyebrows and her wanton mouth showed a set of teeth as white and strong as a negro’s. “Oh, hello, Breezy,” she cried out, her voice round and ringing. “Excuse my barging in like this. I want to know what you’ve done about the table decorations for to-morrow night.”
Miss Breezy rose hurriedly to her feet, and Lola, although she had never seen this woman before, followed her example, sensing the fact that here was the famous Lady Feo.
“I sent Mr. Biddle round to Lee and Higgins in Bond Street, my lady. You need have no anxiety about it.”