declined still, not considering herself old enough to be disqualified from it mattering. She hoped she never would be.
After game there were sweets. The menu offered ice pudding, confiture of nectarines, iced meringues or strawberry jelly, which she accepted. She ate the jelly with her fork, as required by etiquette, an art necessitating a certain degree of concentration.
After the cheese there was a choice of ices, Neapolitan cream or raspberry water, and lastly pineapples, from the glass house presumably, strawberries, apricots or melons. She glanced with amusement at the varieties of skill displayed on the requirement to peel and eat each of these with a knife and fork. More than one person had cause to regret their choice, especially of apricots.
The conversation resumed. It was her job to be charming, to flatter with attention, to amuse, or more often to appear amused. It was the greatest compliment to a man to find him interesting, and she knew few who could resist it. It was amazing how much of himself a man would reveal if one simply allowed him to talk.
Beneath the plans, the assurances and the bravado, Emily heard a deep unease, and it was borne in on her with increasing certainty that those men who had been in government before and knew its subtleties and pitfalls did not wish to lose this election, but neither did they wholeheartedly desire to win. It was a curious situation, and because she did not understand it, therefore it troubled her. She listened for some time until she perceived that each, for his own passion and ambition, wished to win his own particular battle, but not the war. To the victor went spoils they were uncertain how to handle.
The laughter around her was brittle and the voices charged with emotion. The lights glittered on jewels and wineglasses and the unused silver. The rich odors of food lingered amid the heavy perfume of the honeysuckle.
“It required long experience, a colossal courage, any amount of cool self-possession and a great skill to attack and dispose of it without harm to yourself or your neighbor, he told me,” Rose was saying intensely, her eyes glistening.
“Then, my dear lady, you should leave such dangerous quarry to a hunter of courage and strength, a quick eye and a brave heart,” the man next to her replied decisively. “I suggest you content yourself with following the pheasant shoot, or some other such sport.”
“My dear Colonel Bertrand,” Rose answered with shining innocence, “those are the etiquette instructions for eating an orange!”
The colonel blushed scarlet amid the uncontrollable burst of laughter.
“I do apologize!” Rose said as soon as she could be heard. “I fear I did not make myself plain. Life is full of dangers of so many kinds, one steps aside from one pitfall only to plunge into another.”
No one argued with her. There was more than one other present who had felt the colonel’s condescension, and no one rushed to his defense. Lady Warden giggled on and off for the rest of the evening.
When the meal was at last finished the ladies withdrew so the gentlemen might enjoy their port and, Emily knew perfectly well, have the serious political discussion of tactics, money and trading favor for favor which was the purpose of the evening.
To begin with she found herself sitting with half a dozen other wives of men who either were Members of Parliament already or hoped to become so, or who had money and profound interests in the election outcome.
“I wish they would take the new Socialists more seriously,” Lady Molloy said as soon as they were seated.
“You mean Mr. Morris and the Webbs?” Mrs. Lancaster asked with wide eyes and a smile verging on laughter. “Honestly, my dear, have you ever seen Mr. Webb? They say he is undersized, undernourished and underendowed!”
There was a slight titter around the group, as much nervous as amused.
“But she isn’t,” someone else put in quickly. “She comes from a very good
After game there were sweets. The menu offered ice pudding, confiture of nectarines, iced meringues or strawberry jelly, which she accepted. She ate the jelly with her fork, as required by etiquette, an art necessitating a certain degree of concentration.
After the cheese there was a choice of ices, Neapolitan cream or raspberry water, and lastly pineapples, from the glass house presumably, strawberries, apricots or melons. She glanced with amusement at the varieties of skill displayed on the requirement to peel and eat each of these with a knife and fork. More than one person had cause to regret their choice, especially of apricots.
The conversation resumed. It was her job to be charming, to flatter with attention, to amuse, or more often to appear amused. It was the greatest compliment to a man to find him interesting, and she knew few who could resist it. It was amazing how much of himself a man would reveal if one simply allowed him to talk.
Beneath the plans, the assurances and the bravado, Emily heard a deep unease, and it was borne in on her with increasing certainty that those men who had been in government before and knew its subtleties and pitfalls did not wish to lose this election, but neither did they wholeheartedly desire to win. It was a curious situation, and because she did not understand it, therefore it troubled her. She listened for some time until she perceived that each, for his own passion and ambition, wished to win his own particular battle, but not the war. To the victor went spoils they were uncertain how to handle.
The laughter around her was brittle and the voices charged with emotion. The lights glittered on jewels and wineglasses and the unused silver. The rich odors of food lingered amid the heavy perfume of the honeysuckle.
“It required long experience, a colossal courage, any amount of cool self-possession and a great skill to attack and dispose of it without harm to yourself or your neighbor, he told me,” Rose was saying intensely, her eyes glistening.
“Then, my dear lady, you should leave such dangerous quarry to a hunter of courage and strength, a quick eye and a brave heart,” the man next to her replied decisively. “I suggest you content yourself with following the pheasant shoot, or some other such sport.”
“My dear Colonel Bertrand,” Rose answered with shining innocence, “those are the etiquette instructions for eating an orange!”
The colonel blushed scarlet amid the uncontrollable burst of laughter.
“I do apologize!” Rose said as soon as she could be heard. “I fear I did not make myself plain. Life is full of dangers of so many kinds, one steps aside from one pitfall only to plunge into another.”
No one argued with her. There was more than one other present who had felt the colonel’s condescension, and no one rushed to his defense. Lady Warden giggled on and off for the rest of the evening.
When the meal was at last finished the ladies withdrew so the gentlemen might enjoy their port and, Emily knew perfectly well, have the serious political discussion of tactics, money and trading favor for favor which was the purpose of the evening.
To begin with she found herself sitting with half a dozen other wives of men who either were Members of Parliament already or hoped to become so, or who had money and profound interests in the election outcome.
“I wish they would take the new Socialists more seriously,” Lady Molloy said as soon as they were seated.
“You mean Mr. Morris and the Webbs?” Mrs. Lancaster asked with wide eyes and a smile verging on laughter. “Honestly, my dear, have you ever seen Mr. Webb? They say he is undersized, undernourished and underendowed!”
There was a slight titter around the group, as much nervous as amused.
“But she isn’t,” someone else put in quickly. “She comes from a very good
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