Nellie.
“Are all Frenchwomen called after English housemaids?” Lady Montdore said, rather crossly, as she resigned herself to a chat with the old Duchess, the group round Sauveterre having clearly settled down for good. He seemed to be enjoying himself, consumed, one would say, by some secret joke, his twinkling eyes resting with amusement rather than desire, on each plucked and painted face in turn, while in turn, and with almost too obvious an insinceritythey asked about their darling Nellies and Daisys. Meanwhile, the husbands of these various ladies, frankly relieved, as Englishmen always are, by a respite from feminine company, were gambling at the other end of the long room, playing, no doubt, for much higher stakes than they would have been allowed to by their wives and with a solid, heavy masculine concentration on the game itself, undisturbed by any of the distractions of sex. Lady Patricia went off to bed; Boy Dougdale began by inserting himself into the group round Sauveterre but finding that nobody there took the slightest notice of him, Sauveterre not even answering when he asked about the Duc de Souppes, beyond saying evasively, “I see poor Nina de Souppes sometimes,” he gave up, a hurt, smiling look on his face, and came and sat with Polly and me and showed us how to play backgammon. He held our hands as he shook the dice, rubbed our knees with his, generally behaving I thought, in a stchoopid and lecherous way. Lord Montdore and the other very old man went off to play billiards; he was said to be the finest billiards player in the British Isles.
Meanwhile poor Lady Montdore was being subjected to a tremendous interrogation by the Duchess, who had relapsed, through a spirit of contradiction perhaps, into her native tongue. Lady Montdore’s French was adequate, but by no means so horribly wonderful as that of her husband and brother-in-law, and she was soon in difficulties over questions of weights and measures; how many hectares in the park at Hampton, how many metres high was the tower, what it would cost, in francs, to take a house boat for Henley, how many kilometers they were from Sheffield? She was obliged to appeal the whole time to Boy, who never failed her, of course, but the Duchess was not really very much interested in the answers, she was too busy cooking up the next question. They poured out in a relentless torrent, giving Lady Montdore no opportunity whatever to escape to the bridge table as she was longing to do. What sort of electric-light machine was there at Hampton, what was the average weight of a Scotch stag, how long had Lord andLady Montdore been married
(“Tiens!”)
how was the bath water heated, how many hounds in a pack of fox hounds, where was the Royal Family now? Lady Montdore was undergoing the sensation, novel to her, of being a rabbit with a snake. At last she could bear it no more and broke up the party, taking the women off to bed very much earlier than was usual, at Hampton.
Chapter 5
A S THIS WAS the first time I had ever stayed away in such a large grand grown-up house party, I was rather uncertain what would happen, in the morning, about breakfast, so before we said good night I asked Polly.
“Oh,” she said vaguely, “nine-ish, you know,” and I took that to mean, as it meant at home, between five and fifteen minutes past nine. In the morning I was woken up at eight by a housemaid, who brought me tea with slices of paper-thin bread and butter, asked me, “Are these your gloves, miss, they were found in the car?” and then, after running me a bath, whisked away every other garment within sight, to add them no doubt to the collection she had already made of yesterday’s tweed suit, jersey, shoes, stockings and underclothes. I foresaw that soon I should be appearing downstairs in my gloves and nothing else.
By nine o’clock I was bathed and dressed and quite ready for some food. Curiously enough, the immense dinner of the night before, which ought to
“Are all Frenchwomen called after English housemaids?” Lady Montdore said, rather crossly, as she resigned herself to a chat with the old Duchess, the group round Sauveterre having clearly settled down for good. He seemed to be enjoying himself, consumed, one would say, by some secret joke, his twinkling eyes resting with amusement rather than desire, on each plucked and painted face in turn, while in turn, and with almost too obvious an insinceritythey asked about their darling Nellies and Daisys. Meanwhile, the husbands of these various ladies, frankly relieved, as Englishmen always are, by a respite from feminine company, were gambling at the other end of the long room, playing, no doubt, for much higher stakes than they would have been allowed to by their wives and with a solid, heavy masculine concentration on the game itself, undisturbed by any of the distractions of sex. Lady Patricia went off to bed; Boy Dougdale began by inserting himself into the group round Sauveterre but finding that nobody there took the slightest notice of him, Sauveterre not even answering when he asked about the Duc de Souppes, beyond saying evasively, “I see poor Nina de Souppes sometimes,” he gave up, a hurt, smiling look on his face, and came and sat with Polly and me and showed us how to play backgammon. He held our hands as he shook the dice, rubbed our knees with his, generally behaving I thought, in a stchoopid and lecherous way. Lord Montdore and the other very old man went off to play billiards; he was said to be the finest billiards player in the British Isles.
Meanwhile poor Lady Montdore was being subjected to a tremendous interrogation by the Duchess, who had relapsed, through a spirit of contradiction perhaps, into her native tongue. Lady Montdore’s French was adequate, but by no means so horribly wonderful as that of her husband and brother-in-law, and she was soon in difficulties over questions of weights and measures; how many hectares in the park at Hampton, how many metres high was the tower, what it would cost, in francs, to take a house boat for Henley, how many kilometers they were from Sheffield? She was obliged to appeal the whole time to Boy, who never failed her, of course, but the Duchess was not really very much interested in the answers, she was too busy cooking up the next question. They poured out in a relentless torrent, giving Lady Montdore no opportunity whatever to escape to the bridge table as she was longing to do. What sort of electric-light machine was there at Hampton, what was the average weight of a Scotch stag, how long had Lord andLady Montdore been married
(“Tiens!”)
how was the bath water heated, how many hounds in a pack of fox hounds, where was the Royal Family now? Lady Montdore was undergoing the sensation, novel to her, of being a rabbit with a snake. At last she could bear it no more and broke up the party, taking the women off to bed very much earlier than was usual, at Hampton.
Chapter 5
A S THIS WAS the first time I had ever stayed away in such a large grand grown-up house party, I was rather uncertain what would happen, in the morning, about breakfast, so before we said good night I asked Polly.
“Oh,” she said vaguely, “nine-ish, you know,” and I took that to mean, as it meant at home, between five and fifteen minutes past nine. In the morning I was woken up at eight by a housemaid, who brought me tea with slices of paper-thin bread and butter, asked me, “Are these your gloves, miss, they were found in the car?” and then, after running me a bath, whisked away every other garment within sight, to add them no doubt to the collection she had already made of yesterday’s tweed suit, jersey, shoes, stockings and underclothes. I foresaw that soon I should be appearing downstairs in my gloves and nothing else.
By nine o’clock I was bathed and dressed and quite ready for some food. Curiously enough, the immense dinner of the night before, which ought to
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