Really, it would have been laughable if it had not been so disgusting. A man who lives by sponging on his friends for free meals to pretend that he was coming, against his will, to give "the poor little woman" the inestimable privilege of feeding him... But, if you please, that was the accepted "eye-wash", as my boy would call it. In a spirit of pure mischief, I am afraid, I went from one to another: "Bat" Shenstone, "Laurie" Forman, "Theo" Standish, "Bunny" Fancroft. Always the same story! They didn't come to the house for what they could get out of it; I must understand that they were Mrs. Sawyer's friends. Hoity-toity! Friends with a capital "F"...
Very soon it was "Consuelo's" friends. Looking back on it all, one seems to hear a series of commands: "on the word 'loot', quick march; on reaching South Audley Street, halt and enter; on the word 'love' ..." and so forth and so on. No, it's not mine; Will drew a most amusing picture... But that is literally what happened: first of all, they were "Consuelo's" friends, then they were all in love with her.
I have suggested that men of that stamp are incapable of being serious about anything—except the next meal; but any one who was genuinely fond of the poor woman could not help seeing that this formal persecution was more than a joke. Will came to me after one of her parties and said that it was high time for us to do something.
"Get her away from all that gang," he cried; and from the agitation of his voice I could see that he was taking this to heart.
And, you know, it was rather dreadful to see that lovely creature with the tragic eyes standing like a bewildered child with all these young-old men baying round her...
"It's easier said than done," I told him.
"Uncle Tom Brackenbury's going north for the Twelfth," said Will. "Get him to lend you the Hall and ask Consuelo down."
My brother, as you know, is of so curious a temper that I have always been more than chary of even seeming to put myself under an obligation to him. One had the feeling, don't you know, that, if he did not place a wrong construction on one's request, my niece Phyllida would... Since Culroyd's engagement, however, poor Aunt Ann's shoulders have been relieved a little of their burden; the family persists in thinking that I contributed to bring it about, whereas I rigidly set my face against any planning of that kind and was only responsible to the extent that Hilda Surdan was staying in my house when my nephew Culroyd met her... The point of importance, however, is that Aunt Ann is now embarrassingly popular. Brackenbury lent me the house almost before I asked for it...
Then I had to think how the invitation might be made most attractive to Consuelo. After the excitement of her life in London, undoubtedly the best thing would have been to give her all the rest and quiet that we could. There is, however, a strain of something restless and untamed about her; one pictures her running bare-foot through the woods or plunging into the surf by moonlight; and, though she would overcome that in time, I could not conceal from myself that, on the one occasion when she had dined with us en famille, she had flagged... I told her that I hoped to secure some of our common friends; and Will and I worked hard to arrange relays of the people who would best accord, so to say...
I started with Major Blanstock, as he seemed her oldest friend. To do him justice, after the first meeting at Connie Maitland's house, I had never seen him with the jackals; he didn't pretend to be in love with her, he didn't talk about the pearls of his friendship and he didn't even refer to her as "Consuelo".