Drawing for Partners
Mr. Doran did the handing round of the drawing-papers, and they were "Marshall and Snelgrove," and "Lewis and Allenby," and "Debenham and Freebody," &c., and if you drew "Lewis" you went in with whoever drew "Allenby," and so on; it was a capital plan, only for one incident. I was near Lady Theodosia when Mr. Harrington rushed from the other end of the room, and whispered to her in an agitated voice that the "Dickens" of Lady Devnant's "Jones" was Dr. Pluffield. She was not on speaking terms with him, having quarrelled with him for sending her teething powders by mistake, when it ought to have been something for her nerves. All Lady Theodosia said was—
"Harrington, you're a fool. What are their little differences to me? I give 'em the best dinner in England, and they must settle the rest themselves!"
So poor Mr. Harrington had to go back and smooth down Lady Devnant as best he could; and presently we all started for the banqueting-hall. There were several really decent county people there, of course, but they all looked much the same as the others, except that they had diamonds on. Old Admiral Brudnell, who has a crimson face, was taking in the younger Miss de Lacy, and just in front of him were Dr. Pluffield and Lady Devnant, whom the Admiral hates. I heard him say, getting purple like a gobbler, "Come on, come on, I don't mean to let that old catamaran get in front of me!" And he dragged Miss de Lacy through the doorway, bumping the others to get past; and she told me afterwards her funny-bone had got such a knock that she could hardly hold her soup spoon!
Marshall and Snelgrove
It was quainter even than the frumps' dinner that Godmamma gave. I had a very nervous young man with red hair and glasses to take me in; I drew "Snelgrove," so he was "Marshall." He evidently had not understood a bit about the drawing, and kept calling me "Miss Snelgrove," until I was obliged to say to him, "But my name is not Snelgrove any more than yours is Marshall."
"But my name is Marshall," he said, "and I was told to find a lady of the name of 'Snelgrove,' and I wondered at the strange coincidence."
He looked so dreadfully distressed that I had to explain to him; and he got so nervous at his mistake that he hardly spoke for the rest of dinner.
The dishes were exquisite, and Lady Theodosia enjoyed them all, in spite of "Fanny" (that is the Spitz) constantly falling off her lap, and having to be fished for by her own footman, who always stands behind her chair, ready for these emergencies. I call it very plucky of the dog to go on trying; for what lap Lady Theodosia has is so steep it must be like trying to sleep on the dome of St. Paul's. Mr. Roper sat at my other side, and after a while he talked to me; he said he came every year to shoot partridges, and it was always the same. On the night he arrived there was always this dinner party, and some years the most absurd things had happened, but Lady Theodosia did not care a button. He thought there were a good many advantages in being a Duke's daughter; they don't dare to offend her, he said, although they are ready to tear one another's eyes out when they are put with the wrong people. Lady Theodosia puffed a good deal as dinner went on, I could hear her from where I sat. She is in slight mourning, so below her diamond necklace—which is magnificent, but has not been cleaned for years—she had a set of five lockets, on a chain all made of bog oak, and afterwards I found each locket had a portrait of some pet animal who is dead in it, and a piece of its hair. You would never guess that she is Lady Cecilia's sister, except for the bulgy eyes. Towards the end of dinner Mr. Doran got so gay, he talked and laughed so you would not have recognised him, as ordinarily he is a timid little thing.
After Dinner