She perceived quite early that this shortness of money would greatly embarrass the rebellion she contemplated. She was exceptionally ignorant of most worldly things, but she knew there was never yet a campaign without a war chest. She felt entitled to money....
She planned several times to make a demand for replenishment with a haughty dignity; the haughty dignity was easy enough to achieve, but the demand was not. A sensitive dread of her mother’s sympathetic curiosity barred all thoughts of borrowing in that direction,—she and her mother “never discussed money matters.” She did not want to get Georgina into further trouble. And besides, Georgina was in Devonshire.
Even to get to Lady Beach-Mandarin’s became difficult under these circumstances. She knew that Clarence, though he would take her into the country quite freely, had been instructed, on account of Sir Isaac’s expressed dread of any accident happening to her while alone, not to plunge with her into the vortex of London traffic. Only under direct orders from Sir Isaac would Clarence take her down Putney Hill; though she might go up and away—to anywhere. She knew nothing of pawnshops or any associated methods of getting cash advances, and the possibility of using the telephone to hire an automobile never occurred to her. But she was fully resolved to go. She had one advantage in the fact that Sir Isaac didn’t know the precise date of the disputed engagement. When that arrived she spent a restless morning and dressed herself at last with great care. She instructed Peters, her maid, who participated in these preparations with a mild astonishment, that she was going out to lunch, asked her to inform Mrs. Sawbridge of the fact and, outwardly serene, made a bolt for it down the staircase and across the hall. The great butler appeared; she had never observed how like a large note of interrogation his forward contours could be.
“I shall be out to lunch, Snagsby,” she said, and went past him into the sunshine.
She left a discreetly astonished Snagsby behind her.
(“Now where are we going out to lunch?” said Snagsby presently to Peters.
“I’ve never known her so particular with her clothes,” said the maid.
“Never before—not in the same way; it’s something new and special to this affair,” Snagsby reflected, “I wonder now if Sir Isaac....”
“One can’t help observing things,” said the maid, after a pause. “Mute though we be.”)
Lady Harman had the whole five and eightpence with her. She had managed to keep it intact in her jewel case, declaring she had no change when any small demands were made on her.