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Updated: June 18, 2025
I believe she's the daughter of an old broken-down Catholic marquise one of the weedy sort who lives at Troyes, or some such dead-alive hole as that. Her mother tried to make her take the veil, and hasn't succeeded." "She prefers the motor-veil, it appears," I laughed. "But that isn't the story she's told me."
It would be a pity to splash any mud on her!" He glanced toward the porch, his freckled face eloquent of his admiration for the figure which was the centre of the group gathered there. Burns's eyes followed his. Bob, a picturesque, small person in his wedding attire of white linen, was attempting to tie Ellen's motor-veil for her, as she stooped, smiling, to the level of his eager little arms.
Gaunt, hungry, apathetic faces formed the bulk of them; in their midst a man with a big voice talked heroically of the rights of labor and prophesied victory. They stood to listen for a while, then moved on. At the corner of a side-street which they crossed stood a smaller group; a woman, her hat tied round with a motor-veil, stood waving her arms from an orange-box.
She then appeared in a navy-blue coat and skirt, with navy-blue boots buttoned almost to the knees. The skirt was immensely full and immensely short. When the strange erection to which the motor-veil was attached was removed, Cicely showed a dark head with hair cut almost short, and parted on the left side.
Barbara took off Liosha, looking very handsome and fresh beneath the motor-veil, to her room, leaving me with Mr. Fendihook. As he preceded me into the drawing-room I saw a bald patch like a tonsure in the middle of a crop of coarse brown hair. Again he looked round appreciatively and again he said "Tiptop!" He advanced to the open French window. "Garden's all right. Must take a lot of doing.
Cargill had gone up in her estimation. Young people can be so heartless." I would have defended Miss Barriton, but at this moment an astonishing figure was announced. It was Mrs. Cargill in travelling dress, with a purple bonnet and a green motor-veil. Her face was scarlet, whether from excitement or the winds of Tomandhoul, and she charged down on us like a young bull.
We gave each other a glance, and he could not help knowing that I must be her ladyship's maid, by the way I was loaded with rugs, like a beast of burden. Of my face he could see little, as I had on a thick motor-veil with a small triangular talc window, which Lady Kilmarny had given me as a present when I bade her good-bye.
"To your father eh?" I asked, with a smile. "Yes," she answered, with a little hesitation. "And how can you vouch for his honesty? Half a million francs is a great temptation, remember." "No, not so much for him," was her reply. "Why?" She looked straight into my face through the talc front of her motor-veil, and after a moment's silence exclaimed, with a girl's charming frankness
John contradicted her coolly. "You must teach them to love you for yourself alone. Come on, kiddie." He tucked her hand under his arm and hurried her, laughing, down the drive. Phyllis ran after them with a too-late-remembered motor-veil, which she managed to convey into the car by the risky method of tying a stone in it and throwing the stone.
She had once heard Garth remark that a sight which made him feel really ill, was the back view of a woman in a motor-veil, and Jane had laughingly agreed, for to her veils of any kind had always seemed superfluous. The heavy coils of her brown hair never blew about into fascinating little curls and wisps, but remained where, with a few well-directed hairpins, she each morning solidly placed them.
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