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Updated: May 25, 2025
One day I was admiring a photograph of my sister Charty in the window of Macmichael's, when a footman touched his hat and asked me if I would speak to "her Grace" in the carriage. After shaking hands, she said: "Jump in, dear child! I can't bear to see you look so sad. Jump in and I'll take you for a drive and you can come back to tea with me."
It is so dirty outside, but perhaps it would be a pity to bind it. Margot is to have my darling little Daily Light, too. "Then Charty is to have my paste necklace she likes, and any two prints she cares to have, and my little trefeuille diamond brooch oh! and the Hope she painted for me. I love it very much, and my amethyst beads.
The first time I ever saw Peter Flower was at Ranelagh, where he had taken my sister Charty Ribblesdale to watch a polo-match. They were sitting together at an iron table, under a cedar tree, eating ices. I was wearing a grey muslin dress with a black sash and a black hat, with coral beads round my throat, and heard him say as I came up to them: "Nineteen? Not possible! I should have said fifteen!
I ended a passionate protest by telling her gravely that if I changed my mind he would undoubtedly commit suicide. This awful news was received with an hilarity which nettled me. CHARTY: "I should have thought you had too much sense of humour and Mr. G. too much common sense for either of you to believe this. He must think you very vain. ..."
Charty and the others chaffed me much about my new friend, saying that my father would never approve of a Tory and that it was lucky he was married. I replied, much nettled, that I did not want to marry any one and that, though he was a Tory, he was not at all stupid and would probably get into the Cabinet. This was my first shrewd political prophecy, for he is in the Cabinet now.
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