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Updated: May 2, 2025
"Margaret Bludlip Courtenay must certainly have known he was to be there," she said "And I think, from her look, Eva Beaulyon knew also. But neither of them gave me a hint. And now if I were to say anything they would only laugh and declare that they 'thought it would be fun. There's no getting any help or sympathy out of such people. I'm sorry! but as usual I must stand alone."
I've listened to the Bludlip Courtenay woman's enthusiastic description of a new specific for the eradication of wrinkles and crowsfeet. I've listened to that old bore Sir Morton Pippitt, and to the afflicting county gossip of the lady in green, Miss Ittlethwaite is her name, I believe.
Next day all the guests at the Manor had departed with the exception of three Louis Gigue, and the 'Sisters Gemini, namely, Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby. With much gush and gratitude for a 'charming stay a delightful time! Lady Beaulyon and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay took leave of their 'dear Maryllia, who received their farewells and embraces with an irresponsively civil coldness.
Next to Lord Charlemont sat Lady Beaulyon, and next to Lady Beaulyon John Walden was placed with the partner allotted to him, Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay. On Roxmouth's own side there were Lady Wicketts and Sir Morton Pippitt, so it chanced that the table was arranged in a manner that brought certain parties who were by no means likely to agree on any one given point, directly opposite to each other.
Bludlip Courtenay, Julian Adderley, coming up in response to the beckoning finger of Cicely Bourne, was kindly greeted by Maryllia, introduced to one or two of her friends, and asked then and there to luncheon, an invitation he accepted with alacrity, and, after this, all the Manor party started with their hostess to walk home, leaving the village and villagers behind them, and discussing as they went, the morning's service and sermon in the usual brief and desultory style common to fashionable church-goers.
Lord Charlemont and Mr. Bludlip Courtenay 'motored' to London, undertaking with each other to keep up a speed of fifty miles an hour, provided there were not too many hills and not too much 'slowing down' for the benefit of unexpected policemen round corners.
He had no sympathy with sporting or betting men and he knew by repute that Lord Charlemont and Bludlip Courtenay were of this class. Then again, deep down in his own soul, he resented the fact that Maryllia Vancourt entertained this sort of people as her guests. She was much too good for them, he thought, she wronged herself by being in their company, or allowing them to be in hers!
Then Eva Beaulyon turned her back indifferently on the whole party and stepped out on the lawn. She was followed by Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, and both ladies gave vent to small smothered bleats of mocking laughter as they sauntered across the grass side by side. But Maryllia did not care. She had carried her point, and was satisfied.
Nowhere that you cannot find me!" She laughed, she had recovered her natural buoyancy and light- heartedness, and when she joined her party at dinner that evening, she showed no traces of annoyance or fatigue. She made no allusion to Lord Roxmouth's appearance at Sir Morton Pippitt's, and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, glancing at her somewhat timorously, judged it best to avoid the subject.
Life was worth living, he said to himself, when one might study at leisure the little tell-tale lines of vice and animalism on the exquisite features of Lady Beaulyon, and at the same time note admiringly how completely the united forces of massage and self-complacency had eradicated every wrinkle from the expressionless countenance of Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay.
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