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Updated: May 12, 2025
After lunch every one seemed to play bridge but Lady Tilchester and I and her politician and the weak-eyed Duke. We climbed the hill to the ruins of the old castle and there sat until tea-time. "Isn't it a bore for me I shall have to marry an heiress?" the Duke said, pathetically.
The thick trees met overhead, and only an occasional sunbeam penetrated through. I felt stupid. The words did not come so easily as when I am with the Duke. "How silent you are, Comtesse!" "Is it not time to go back?" I said, stupidly. "No, not nearly time. I want you to tell me all about yourself where you lived, and all that happened until you flashed into my life at the Tilchester ball.
The Marquis de Rochermont will give me away grandmamma is too feeble now to stand. The ceremony is to be in the village church here, and the choir, composed of village youths unacquainted with a note of music, is to meet us at the lich-gate and precede us up the aisle, singing an encouraging wedding-hymn, while school-children spread forced white roses, provided by the Tilchester rose-growers.
The women are very smartly dressed all the time, but they do not show a great sense of the fitness of things. Only Lady Grenellen and Lady Tilchester are always adorable and attractive in anything and in any way. I believe they do not love one another very much, although they are quite friendly; one somehow can see it in their eyes.
He kept touching my arm, half in an outburst of affection and half to keep my attention from wandering from him. He blustered politenesses to Lady Tilchester, who smiled vacantly while she was attending to something else. Then my fiancé suggested that we should dance.
I ask you frankly, because, of course, the Duke is in love with you, and he naturally would not be impressed with Miss Trumpet." I should have been angry if any one else had said this. But there is something so adorable about Lady Tilchester she can say anything. "You are quite mistaken.
The conversation here is of societies, the Girls' Friendly Society, the Cottage Hospital, the movements of the Church, the continuance of the war, the fear the rest of the Tilchester Yeomanry will volunteer; and now and then the hostess warms up, if there is a question of a subscription, to her own pet hobby.
Sir Antony Thornhirst, who had stopped to speak to Lady Tilchester by the billiard-room door, now came over to us. He stood by me for a moment, then crossed to Lady Grenellen. "They are wanting you to play bridge in the blue drawing-room," he said. She rose quite reluctantly, still overcome with mirth. Augustus tried to get up, too, but stumbled back into the sofa.
She sat on a big sofa and smoked cigarettes rapidly in a little amber holder. She must have got through at least three or four of them before the men came in. Lady Tilchester and two other women were deep in South-African news, the rest talked about books and their clothes, but Babykins and Letitia exchanged views upon the scandal of the time.
This was the atmosphere I had always lived in, and since my wedding the people of my own class that I have met do not seem to hold different views. Lord Tilchester is Babykins's lover. The Duke has passed on from several women, and, to come nearer home, there are my husband and Lady Grenellen. Only Lady Tilchester seems noble and above all these earthly things. Why did I hesitate? I do not know.
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