I was quite pliable. I had nothing whatever to do and enjoyed bouncing round London in the big Daimler, while Polly went about the business which is demanded of a beauty. Although society, at present, had no attractions for her, she was very much interested in her own appearance and would never, I think, have given up bothering about it as Lady Patricia had.
So we went to Madame Rita, and I tried on all the hats in the shop while Polly had her fitting, and wondered why it was that hats never seemed to suit me, something to do with my heather-like hair perhaps, and then we drove down to Hampton Court where Polly’s old great-aunt, the widow of a general, had an apartment. She sat all day dealing out cards to herself as she waited for eternity.
‘And yet I don’t believe she aches, you know,’ said Polly.
‘I’ve noticed,’ I said, ‘that married ladies and even widows never ache. There is something about marriage that seems to stop it for good, I wonder why?’
Polly did not answer. The very word marriage always shut her up like a clam, it was a thing that had to be remembered in her company.
The afternoon before my engagement was to be announced in The Times, Aunt Emily sent me round to Montdore House to tell the news. It is not at all my nature to be one of those who ‘drop in’, I like to be invited by people to their houses at a given time, so that when I arrive they are expecting me and have made their dispositions accordingly, but I saw Aunt Emily’s point when she said that, after all Lady Montdore’s kindness to me, and considering that Polly was such a very great friend, I could hardly allow them to become aware of my engagement by reading it casually, in the paper.
So round I went, trembling rather. Bullitt, the butler, always frightened me into a fit. He was like Frankenstein’s monster and one had to follow his jerky footsteps as though through some huge museum before arriving at the little green room, the only room in the house which did not seem as if it had been cleared ready for a reception, in which they always sat. Today, however, the front door was opened by a footman of more human aspect, and, furthermore, he told me the good news that Her Ladyship had not yet come in but Lady Polly was there alone, so off we trudged and presently discovered her amid the usual five o’clock paraphernalia of silver kettle on flame, silver teapot, Crown Derby cups and plates and enough sugary food to stock a pastrycook’s shop. She was sitting on the arm of a chair reading the Tatler.
‘Heavenly Tatler day,’ she said, ‘it really does help with the aching. I’m in and Linda’s in, but not you this week. Faithful of you to come, I was just wishing somebody nice would – now we can have our tea.’
I was uncertain how she would take my engagement, I had in fact never spoken to her of Alfred since I had begged her to get him asked to the ball, she always seemed so much against young men or any talk of love. But when I told her the news she was enthusiastic and only reproached me with having been so secretive.
‘I remember you made me ask him to the ball,’ she said. ‘But then you never mentioned him again, once.’
‘I didn’t dare to talk about it,’ I said, ‘in case – well – it really was of too much importance.’
‘Oh, I do understand that. I’m so glad you were longing for it before he asked you, I never believe in the other sort, the ones who have to make up their minds, you know. How lucky you are, oh, fancy being able to marry the person you love. You don’t know your luck.’ Her eyes were full of tears, I saw. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Tell everything.’
I was rather surprised at this show of feeling, so unusual with Polly, but in my selfish state of great new happiness did not pause to consider what it might mean. Besides, I was, of course, longing to tell.
‘He was terribly nice to me at your ball, I hadn’t a bit expected that he would come to London for it because for one thing, knee-breeches. I knew how he wouldn’t have any, and then he’s so busy always and hates parties, so you can imagine when I saw him I was all excited. Then he asked me to dance, but he danced with old Louisa too and even Aunt Emily so I thought, oh, well, he doesn’t know anybody else, it must be that. So then he took me to supper and said he liked my dress and he hoped I’d go and see him at Oxford, and then he said something which showed he’d remembered a conversation we had had before. You know how encouraging that always is. After that he asked me to Oxford, twice, once he had a luncheon party and once he was alone, but in the holidays he went to Greece. Oxford holidays are terribly long, you know. Not even a postcard, so I thought it was all off. Well, on Thursday I went to Oxford again and this time he proposed to me and look –’ I said, showing a pretty old ring, a garnet set in diamonds.
‘Don’t say he had it on him like in The Making of a Marchioness,’ said Polly.
‘Just like, except that it’s not a ruby.’
‘Quite the size of a pigeon’s egg though. You are lucky.’
Lady Montdore now appeared. She bustled in still wearing her outdoor clothes and seemed unusually mellow.
‘Ah! The girls!’ she said, ‘talking balls, I suppose, as usual! Going to the Graves-ends’ tonight, Fanny? Give me some tea, I’m quite dead, such an afternoon with the Grand Duchess, I’ve just dropped her at Kensington Palace. You’d never believe that woman
