"It's a secret ballot," said Will.
"Some one gave me nought for everything except 'Personal Charm', and there I received minus ten... I was wondering who it was."
"D'you suggest I did it?," asked Will.
"Oh, I respect the secrecy of the ballot," answered Sir Adolf. "But I noticed that you were using an indelible-ink pencil and I was clumsy enough to spill some soda-water over some of the papers, including the only one written with an indelible-ink pencil... But it is all a game, is it not?"
I have never felt so uncomfortable. Sir Adolphus said nothing more; he and Lady Erskine were too sweet for the rest of the time we were at Rock Hill. But I felt—perhaps quite wrongly—that I could not place myself under an obligation to him, I could not invite a rebuff...
Will was in no sense of the word to blame. It was entirely my fault for not protesting more vigorously against a game in which there would inevitably be some unpleasantness, some one's feelings hurt. If we had been treated as rational beings and allowed to talk... Or music. I am easily satisfied, I ask for nothing better than a little music... If only the rising generation were rather less self-conscious...
V
LADY ANN SPENWORTH REFUSES TO BECOME A MATCH-MAKER
Lady Ann (to a friend of proved discretion): If you will give me a moment to set my thoughts in order, I think I can furnish the whole story. Indeed, if you are to skate in safety this week-end at Brackenbury, it is well to know where the ice will bear... Goodness me, I don't suggest for a moment that there is anything to conceal—I can assure you I should have had something to say before ever receiving the girl or allowing my nephew Culroyd to meet her—my boy Will can take care of himself—; I meant that there is so little to tell. Surdan the name is; Hilda Surdan—and no relation to our dear old admiral, nor to the Lacey-Surdans, nor to that wild, eccentric tribe of Surdans who have spread over so much of Mayo... If I may give you a hint, that is just the sort of question that you have so particularly to avoid. I've no doubt that in a few years they will have concocted a most convincing pedigree, linking themselves to all and sundry, but the idea has not occurred to them yet...
Homely, unspoiled people I thought them... The mother very capable, but endearing... Immensely rich—I believe it is shipping, but the history books are silent... Have you observed a significant change in the biographies of the present day? We are always plunged into the heart of things, as it were: "called to the bar in seventy-something, under-secretary for this or that, entered the cabinet as secretary for the other and, on retiring, was raised to the peerage with the title of"—something rather far-fetched and pretentious, as a rule. After that it's plain sailing. But, if one suggests that even a successful barrister must have had some kind of father and mother, one is considered to have been tactless... I believe it was shipping... They talked a great deal about "yards", which one always associates with that sort of thing.