Under these circumstances you can imagine why I tell you all this—it is to show you how more than overjoyed I was at the thought of eating my Christmas pudding among gentlefolk.
When I got out at Highfield—the nearest station to Catchfield—my lord’s brougham stood in waiting.
“They are very full up at the Hall, madam,” the coachman said, touching his hat respectfully, “otherwise miladi would have sent one of the motors, but they have both had to go out longish distances.”
“Is there a house-party?” I faltered, giving one of the horses—I love horses—a gentle pat on the head.
“What! didn’t you know? I beg your pardon, madam,” the fellow added suddenly, recollecting himself, “but it is the Coming of Age party of the Hon. Walter early next week that has fetched well-nigh half the county; you see he is the eldest son—and—well, madam, there is to be a very big ball. I made sure madam knew all about it.”
I shook my head despairingly, balls were not for such as I. I had neither a dress nor yet the money wherewith to buy one. Most decidedly I ought not to have come! I glanced at the man to see if he understood my misgivings, apparently he did not; perhaps he would not; his manner at all events was in no degree less deferential, and as he shut the carriage door with the courtly air of an old gallant, I compared him with the parents at St. Rudolphs—the comparison of course being all in his favour.
I will not attempt to describe the exterior of Catchfield, it has been done so often and so well in historical romances, in biographies, and in County Directories that any additional effort of mine would be at once superfluous and poor.
I arrived there late—too late for dinner—and partook of a dainty supper laid expressly for me in the ball-room presumptive. Fancy supper by myself in a ball-room! But there was apparently a doubt as to which of the rooms would be used for the occasion, his lordship being somewhat reluctant at present to allow this handsomely, I might almost say sombrely, furnished apartment to be used for such a frivolous purpose.
Remembering Robert’s sanctimonious bringing up I was not in the least surprised at his qualms, my only wonder being that he countenanced a ball at all, but of course that was miladi’s doings. I much wished to inquire why a solitary meal for such as I should be served in a room of such splendid dimensions, and one that in most households would undoubtedly have been used as a drawing-room, but I refrained, not desiring to appear inquisitive in the eyes of the servants. Her ladyship arrived as I was finishing my second cup of fragrant coffee, and despite a certain languid hauteur characteristic of the nobility, especially of the MODERN nobility, she appeared to welcome me.
I felt this, and yet somehow I was puzzled—puzzled at an indescribable something in her manner that was quite apart from pride—something that left me with the decidedly unpleasant impression she was surely acting a part, and—yet—why should she? Why should her ladyship be anything but frank with the poor and inoffensive cousin of her husband?