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Updated: June 3, 2025
She knew her house was one of those to which any woman setting out on the conquest of London would wish to come. She did not want Miss Schley there, but she resolved to invite her if peopled talked too much about her not being invited. And she wished to be informed if they did. One day she spoke to Robin Pierce about it. Lord Holme's treatment of Carey had not yet been applied to him.
Lady Holme was pleased. At the Carlton one can always look about. "And it's a woman's lunch." Lady Holme's countenance fell quite frankly. "I knew you'd be horrified. You think us such bores, and so we are. But I couldn't resist being malicious to win such a triumph. You at a hen lunch! It'll be the talk of London. Can you forgive me?" "Of course." "And can you stand it?"
Others looked mournfully fatuous, as if suddenly a prey to lasting and romantic grief. The older men were more impartial in their observation of Mrs. Wolfstein's guests. And all the women, without exception, fixed their eyes upon Lady Holme's hat. Lady Cardington, who seemed oppressed by grief, said to Mrs. Wolfstein: "Did you see that article in the Daily Mail this morning?" "Which one?"
You're only a great schoolboy after all. Come along." She began to pour out the tea. It made a pleasant little noise falling into the cup. The sun was wonderfully bright in the pretty room, almost Italian in its golden warmth. Lady Holme's black Pomeranian, Pixie, stood on its hind legs to greet him.
It took her, about six and twenty years to learn; still, some people take longer than that; in fact, many never learn. This is a brief summary of Bernardine Holme's past.
"The giant refreshed with wine. No gee-gee to-night. No gee-gee." "Tell his lordship." The butler went out, and Lady Holme's maid put a long black cloak carefully over her mistress's shoulders. While she did this Lady Holme stood quite still gazing into vacancy.
"Dear person!" she said, taking Lady Holme's hands in hers, which were covered with unusually large rings. "Now, I've got a confession to make. What a delicious hat!" Lady Holme felt certain the confession was of something unpleasant, but she only said, in the rather languid manner she generally affected towards women: "Well? My ear is at the grating." "My lunch is at the Carlton."
Miss Schley glanced up into Lady Holme's eyes. "I hoped to make the acquaintance of Lord Holme to-night," she murmured. "Folks tell me he's a most beautiful man. Isn't he anywhere around?" She looked away into vacancy, ardently. Lady Holme felt a slight tingling sensation in her cool skin.
Wolfstein, with her strongest accent, while Miss Schley put out a limp hand to meet Lady Holme's and very slightly accentuated her smile. "Your mother? I shall be delighted to meet her. I hope you'll bring her one day," said Lady Holme; thinking more emphatically than ever that for a woman with a complexion as perfect as hers it was a mistake to wear many jewels.
The fleeting glance in a carelessly expressive boy's eyes at this moment gave to Lady Holme's mind the last touch it needed to acquire the impetus which would carry it over the edge of the precipice into the abyss. The look in Paolo's eyes said to her, "Life has done with you. Throw it away."
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