Jack was wondering with vague dissatisfaction how much more time to give her for making a move, when his hand was forced. On returning to London after the week-end, he lighted on a photograph with the description, "Lady Barbara Neave, Who is Giving a Sensational Ball. See p. 7." He turned to the page indicated and read a gossipy half-column over the signature of "A Woman About Town."
"A mad world, my masters! But an amusing one, don't you think? The oldsters say 'What next, what next?' but the youngsters always have 'next' up their sleeves, and it's always better than the last. Youth for ever! We had the Shakespeare Ball, and the Regency Ball threw it into the shade. Then the Young Bachelors took the field—and were driven from it (with full honours of war, and all thanks to you, dear young bachelors, for a glorious evening) by The Rest. Mrs. Leo Butler gave her Night in a Persian Garden, and Lady Hessler retaliated with her Daybreak Dance, which started at four—it's still going on, for all I know. A mad world! And the oldsters are being attacked by the madness. These 'boy-and-girl' dances were squeezing them into the cold, so they gave a ball to themselves where only the married could hope for admission. 'The Hags' Hop,' said irreverent Youth and bided its time for revenge. And now it is coming—in Ascot Week. I rub my eyes, for the World and His Wife will be at the Bodmin Lodge ball, as they have always been and as their fathers and mothers were before them. Ascot Week? Bodmin Lodge? One would as soon compete with the Royal Enclosure as with the Bodmin Lodge ball. Yet—it is not the whisper of my faithful little bird, but an engraved card—'Lady Barbara Neave, At Home.' Fancy Dress, she says in one corner. At the Empire Hotel. And my little bird tells me that it will rival and outshine the Jubilee Ball at Devonshire House, when we were all tiny tots. If I know anything of Lady Barbara, it will be the ball of the season. Youth for ever! But it is a mad world. 'What are our girls coming to?' the oldsters ask. 'A girl giving a ball!' 'And a wonderful ball it will be,' say I. Best wishes, Lady Barbara!"
Jack assumed that Barbara must be organizing a ball for some charity and thought no more of the announcement until he met Loring at the County Club that night before dinner and was hurried into the cool and deserted billiard-room.
"I say, have you seen about my precious cousin's latest freak?" Loring began. "There's been the most colossal row!"
"I saw an announcement about a ball in one of the papers," Jack answered.
"One of them! She's got it in every rag in the kingdom, morning and evening, penny plain and twopence coloured. Barbara's thorough; I'll say that for her. There's no going back."
He paused to fan himself and ring for a glass of sherry.
"What exactly was the row?" asked Jack.
"Well, you know, she's coming of age next week; and the Crawleighs thought it was a good opportunity for working off old scores. Nominally it was to be Barbara's party, but, when they started on their list, she found that some of her more objectionable friends were being cut out. I've no doubt Crawleigh did it as tactlessly as possible, and Barbara took it as a challenge. Both sides fought the question on principle, Crawleigh lost his temper on principle, Babs—on principle—kept hers and said that, if her friends couldn't come to the house, she'd give a party for them elsewhere."
"Characteristic," Jack murmured.