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Updated: June 17, 2025
They watched, however, in vain it was not yet the hour for the crowding of the Row and there was not a sign of the particular equipage they were so desirous to meet. Presently Lady Winsleigh's face flushed she laughed, and bade her coachman come to a halt. "It is only Lennie," she said in answer to Mrs. Marvelle's look of inquiry. "I must speak to him a moment!"
"How do you do?" said Miss Bartlett, with a meaning glance, as though conveying that more than dahlias had been broken off by the autumn gales. "Here, Lennie, the bass," cried Mrs. Honeychurch. The garden-child, who did not know what bass was, stood rooted to the path with horror.
Loder bowed and moved to the front of the box, nodding to Kaine as he passed. "It's only for an hour," he explained to Lillian. "I have an appointment for eleven." He turned and bowed to the third occupant of the box a remarkably young and well-dressed girl with wide-awake eyes and a retrousse nose. "Only an hour! Oh, how unkind! How should I punish him, Lennie?"
"He follows me everywhere like a dog! Poor Lennie!" Again the elder lady coughed significantly. Clara Winsleigh broke into a ringing peal of laughter, and rising from her lounge, knelt beside her visitor in a very pretty coaxing attitude. "Come, Mimsey!" she said, "you are not going to be proper at this time of day! That would be a joke!
You're a great friend of Lennie's, aren't you?" Lady Winsleigh sat erect and haughty, a deadly chill of disgust and fear at her heart. This creature called her quondam lover, "Lennie" even as she herself had done, and she, the proud, vain woman of society and fashion shuddered at the idea that there should be even this similarity between herself and the "thing" called Violet Vere.
Lady Winsleigh looked vexed Mrs. Marvelle bewildered. "Do you think," inquired this latter, "she can really be so wonderfully lovely?" "No, I don't!" answered Clara snappishly. "I dare say she's a plump creature with a high color men like fat women with brick-tinted complexions they think it's healthy. Helen of Troy indeed! Pooh! Lennie must be crazy."
Luckily Fanny was too full of her news to notice Toni's involuntary shudder as she looked round the close little bedroom; and barely waiting to shut the door she blurted out her tidings. "Toni, you remember Lennie Dowson the fellow who was sweet on you?" Toni nodded casually, her eyes still roaming round her, and Fanny felt vaguely disappointed that the subject was so evidently uninteresting.
Darling, indulgent, good old Mimsey! you don't mean to turn into a prim, prosy, cross Mrs. Grundy! I won't believe it! And you mustn't be severe on poor Lennie he's such a docile, good boy, and really not bad-looking!" Mrs. Marvelle fidgeted a little on her chair.
Then young Maudie went wrong and took her sister Alice with her; the two boys emigrated, and young Jim went to India with the army, and Ethel, the youngest, married a good-for-nothing little waiter who died of ulcers the year little Lennie was born. And now little Lennie my grandson... The piles of dirty cups, dirty dishes, were washed and dried.
If she could only cry now, cry for a long time, over everything, beginning with her first place and the cruel cook, going on to the doctor's, and then the seven little ones, death of her husband, the children's leaving her, and all the years of misery that led up to Lennie. But to have a proper cry over all these things would take a long time. All the same, the time for it had come.
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