"I must give it up," I said in despair. "Spenworth, will you tell me—in language comprehensible to my poor wits—whether you and your wife are coming to dine on the eighteenth?"
"Thank you very much, Ann," he answered, "we are not. 'Matter o' fact, I'm taking the chair at a regimental dinner, but if I wasn't... I think it's an infernal shame and I hope it's a rotten party."
And then he turned on his heel...
I can never see his charm, myself. People excuse his rudeness, his immorality, his utterly wasted, self-indulgent life... They say he's "such a good fellow", whatever that may mean... But I find it very hard to speak coolly about Spenworth...
Without wanting to be inhospitable, I was secretly relieved that he could not come. The dear princess is the soul of tolerance, but I was not at all sure how she would receive his name; I was not at all sure that he would even behave himself properly. Did I ever tell you how he set himself to drive the Archbishop out of the house by sheer—but I prefer not to discuss it. "Indecency" is really the only word; under the guise of an ethical discussion... As we literally cannot sit down more than twenty-four in Mount Street, two spare places are a consideration. I was fortunate enough to secure the Duke and Duchess of Yarrow; one had not seen much of them for some years, and the duchess is so deaf that I sometimes wonder whether she is really quite right in her head, but the duke is a director of the Far East Trading Company, and I thought that, if Will ever did think of going abroad to seek his fortune, the duke ought to know of it before he was snapped up by any one else. The others... But I expect you saw the list; it was in all the papers—the Bishop of Hatwell, dear old Lady Ursula Bedmont, the Minister of Fine Arts, the Spanish Ambassador...
Or was it the Italian? I'm quite stupid about remembering who was there. It was so long since I'd given a party of any kind that I'm not ashamed to confess I was a little nervous. And we began badly: Lord Fenchurch, who really grows more and more absent-minded every day, arrived with a black tie and one of those detestable little jackets that young men affect in theatres. Arthur was waiting in the hall to receive the princess and in a moment had him fitted out properly, while a maid dashed to Hay Hill to fetch his St. George. (As Arthur said, "We can lend you anything from the South African medal to the Victorian Order, but we don't fly as high as Garters.")
One or two tiny hitches like that, just enough to make me nervous... When the princess arrived, all was transformed: she was more than gracious, wanting to know why she never saw anything of me nowadays... Some people are quite wonderfully able to give you that sense of well-being. I presented Will. She said:
"But you're not old enough to have a grown-up son!"
"I am old enough to be proud of it, ma'am," I said.
I don't think I am envious; but, when I saw the success of my little party, when I looked at Brackenbury, who has the money and does nothing with it, and at Ruth, who couldn't do anything with it if she wanted to ... just an over-grown school-girl... When I thought of Spenworth and the opportunities at Cheniston, I felt it was a little hard... They do come to me, gladly, graciously; and I am not in a position to entertain them...