“However, I belong to a very smart West End Ladies’ Club, so I can always give my little card parties there. You must come and have tea there some day,” said Miss Forster airily.
“I should like to,” replied Lydia truthfully. She was not attracted by Miss Forster, but people with literary ladyships for their friends might be very useful, and Lydia quite complacently told herself that the accident of her having listened to, and remembered, Aunt Evelyn’s item of information, had done her good service with this woman, who might easily bring her into that world where she most wished to find herself.
She began to think that, perhaps, after all, the boarding-house might count for even more than Madame Elena’s.
At dinner, which on Sundays was in the middle of the day, the Greek, who was her neighbour, talked to her and asked if she were going out in the afternoon.
“I have to unpack,” said Lydia demurely.
She had unpacked almost everything in the course of the morning, but she thought that the Greek meant to ask if she would go out with him, and instinct told her that his evident admiration would only be increased by a pretence at coyness.
“Do you care for the theatre?” he inquired next.
“Oh, I love it,” said Lydia frankly.
“We must make up a party one evening. Mrs. Bulteel is very fond of a good show, I know,” said the Greek.
Lydia felt excited.