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The little door in the wainscot beyond the clock was opened. An elderly butler put his head round the huge screen of Spanish leather that masked the very existence of the modest means of communication with the quarters of the Ulland domestics.
Of this other young lady swinging her golf club as she came across the lawn with the men sole petticoat among them it could not be pretended that any hostess, let alone one so worldly-wise as Lady John Ulland, would look to have the above-hinted high and delicate office performed by so upright and downright not to say so bony a young woman, with face so like a horse, and the stride of a grenadier.
I saw that once before. 'Once before? she echoed. He reminded her of the time she hurried away from Ulland House to Bishopsmead. 'I wasn't deceived, he said, with his look of smiling malice. 'You didn't care two pins about your Cousin Mary and her influenza. Vida moved her expressionless face a little to the right. 'I can see Sophia.
Lady John Ulland had been openly surprised, even enthusiastically grateful, at discovering before this that Vida Levering was ready to help her with some of the unornamental duties that fall to the lot of the 'great ladies' of England. 'I don't know what that discontented creature, her sister, means by saying Vida is so unsympathetic about charity work.
I used to think I knew about poetry, yes, better than anybody but the poets. There are people as arrogant as that. 'Why, it's worse than Mrs. McTaggart! The girl was grave, even tremulous. 'But, no! I never had a notion of what poetry really was till down at Ulland you took my book away from me, and read aloud Mr.
Seeing Ulland House for the first time on a fine afternoon in early May against the jubilant green of its woodland hillside, the beholder, a little dazzled in that first instant by the warmth of colour burning in the ancient brick, might adapt the old dean's line and call the coral-tinted structure rambling down the hillside, 'A rose-red dwelling half as old as Time.
The rest of the Ulland House party were arriving by the next train. As Miss Levering was understood to be one of those expected it will be seen that a justified faith in the excellence of the Ulland links had not made Lady John unmindful of the wisdom of including among 'the week-enders' a nice assortment of pretty women for the amusement of her golfers in the off hours.
Geoffrey Stonor and his bride-to-be were more alone now in the midst of this shouting mob than they had been since the Ulland House luncheon-gong had broken in upon and banished momentary wonderment about the name that name beginning with V. Plain to see in the flushed and happy face that Jean Dunbarton was not 'asking questions. She was listening absorbed to the oldest of all the stories.
'I don't understand, he objected mendaciously 'not a little bit. 'I think you must, she said, with her candid air. 'Though I had made up my mind that I wouldn't be afraid of you any more since our week-end at Ulland. 'Ah, that's better!
Two or three men, on this fine Saturday, had come down from London for the week-end to disport themselves on the Ulland links, half a mile beyond the park.
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