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Updated: June 26, 2025
There's far too much of it, and it ought to be stopped. It may be tolerated for a few cranks, or silly young men, and these new women, but for Eustace " Lady Casterley paused again, and her fingers pinched Barbara's arm, "or for you there's only one sort of marriage possible. As for Eustace, I shall speak to this good lady, and see that he doesn't get entangled further."
Barbara gave her arm, and over her shoulder threw a swift smile at Mrs. Noel, who did not answer it, but stood looking quietly after them, her eyes immensely dark and large. Out in the lane Lady Casterley walked on, very silent, digesting her emotions. "What about the 'fly, Granny?" "What 'fly'?" "The one you told me to order." "You don't mean to say that you took me seriously?"
"Nor 'flys," she said. Lady Casterley saw that she had closed her eyes and opened her lips. And she thought: "She's a very beautiful girl. I had no idea she was so beautiful but too big!" And she added aloud: "Shut your mouth! You will get one down!" They spoke no more till they had entered the avenue; then Lady Casterley said sharply: "Who is this coming down the drive?" "Mr. Courtier, I think."
There certainly was Lady Casterley, standing a little back from the drive, and directing a tall gardener how to deal with an old oak-tree. Courtier alighted, and went towards her to say good-bye. She greeted him with a certain grim cordiality. "So you are going! I am glad of that, though you quite understand that I like you personally." "Quite!" Her eyes gleamed maliciously.
Lady Casterley again lowered the letter, and stood listening. A prolonged, muffled sound as of distant cheering and groans had penetrated the great conservatory, vibrating among the pale petals of the lilies and setting free their scent in short waves of perfume. She passed into the hall; where, stood an old man with sallow face and long white whiskers. "What was that noise, Clifton?"
Lady Casterley, in the company of little Ann, who had perceived that it was novel to be in the garden at this hour, had been scrutinizing some newly founded colonies of a flower with which she was not familiar. On seeing her granddaughter approach, she said at once: "What is this thing?" "Nemesia." "Never heard of it." "It's rather the fashion, Granny." "Nemesia?" repeated Lady Casterley.
There were points to Agatha, earnestness and high principle; but something morally narrow and over-Anglican slightly offended the practical, this-worldly temper of Lady Casterley. It was a weakness, and she disliked weakness. Barbara would never be squeamish over moral questions or matters such as were not really, essential to aristocracy.
"I think so," gasped Lady Casterley; and suddenly she found herself half-lifted from the ground, and, as it were, flying towards the stile. She heard a noise behind; then Barbara's voice: "We must stop. He's on us. Get behind me." She felt herself caught and pinioned by two arms that seemed set on the wrong way.
His face had the rather ghastly look of sunburnt faces from which emotion has driven the blood; and his eyes, always so much the most living part of him, were full of such stabbing anger, that involuntarily they all looked down. "I want to speak to you alone," he said to Lady Casterley. Visibly, for perhaps the first time in her life, that indomitable little figure flinched.
Courtier smilingly raised his hat. His cheeks were burning. Regaining the car, he looked round. Lady Casterley was busy once more exhorting the tall gardener. The voice of little Ann broke in on his thoughts: "I hope you'll come again. Because I expect I shall be here at Christmas; and my brothers will be here then, that is, Jock and Tiddy, not Christopher because he's young. I must go now.
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