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Updated: September 22, 2025
"They meant to be polite," said Bessie, "because we are going to meet them." "It is too late to be polite," Mrs. Westgate replied almost grimly. "They meant to overawe us by their fine manners and their grandeur, and to make you lacher prise." "Lacher prise? What strange things you say!" murmured Bessie Alden. "They meant to snub us, so that we shouldn't dare to go to Branches," Mrs.
Westgate had said, a big boat, and his leadership in the innumerable and interminable corridors and cabins, with which he seemed perfectly acquainted, and of which anyone and everyone appeared to have the entree, was very grateful to the slightly bewildered voyagers.
Westgate had occasion to go out for an hour, and left her sister writing a letter. When she came back she met Lord Lambeth at the door of the hotel, coming away. She thought he looked slightly embarrassed; he was certainly very grave. "I am sorry to have missed you. Won't you come back?" she asked. "No," said the young man, "I can't. I have seen your sister. I can never come back."
But if she said little, her sister on one side and Willie Woodley on the other expressed themselves in lively alternation. "Look at that green dress with blue flounces," said Mrs. Westgate. "Quelle toilette!" "That's the Marquis of Blackborough," said the young man "the one in the white coat.
"Those in favour signify the same in the usual way. Contrary? Carried." The secretary noted the dissentients, six in number, and that Mr. Westgate did not vote. A quarter of an hour later he stood in the body of the emptying room supplying names to one of the gentlemen of the Press. The passionless fellow said: "Haythorp, with an 'a'; oh! an 'e'; he seems an old man. Thank you.
"You have a very convenient faculty of doubt. But my policy will be, as I say, very deep. I shall leave you to find out this kind of thing for yourself." Bessie fixed her eyes upon her sister, and Mrs. Westgate thought for a moment there were tears in them. "Do they talk that way here?" she asked. "You will see. I shall leave you alone." "Don't leave me alone," said Bessie Alden. "Take me away."
"Is that your story?" asked Bessie Alden. "Don't you think it's interesting?" her sister replied. "I don't believe it," said the young girl. "Ah," cried Mrs. Westgate, "you are not so simple after all! Believe it or not, as you please; there is no smoke without fire." "Is that the way," asked Bessie after a moment, "that you expect your friends to treat you?"
She's awfully fast; see what little steps she takes." "Well, my dear," Mrs. Westgate pursued, "I hope you are getting some ideas for your couturiere?" "I am getting plenty of ideas," said Bessie, "but I don't know that my couturiere would appreciate them." Willie Woodley presently perceived a friend on horseback, who drove up beside the barrier of the Row and beckoned to him.
His wife more than once announced that she expected him on the morrow; but on the morrow she wandered about a little, with a telegram in her jeweled fingers, declaring it was very tiresome that his business detained him in New York; that he could only hope the Englishmen were having a good time. "I must say," said Mrs. Westgate, "that it is no thanks to him if you are."
"I have only been in town three weeks; but you must have been hiding away; I haven't seen you anywhere." "Where should you have seen us where should we have gone?" asked Mrs. Westgate. "You should have gone to Hurlingham," said Willie Woodley. "No; let Lord Lambeth tell us," Mrs. Westgate insisted. "There are plenty of places to go to," said Lord Lambeth; "each one stupider than the other.
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