Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction; Women -- Social and moral questions -- Fiction
Again Mrs. Pratt gave the pleased bashful little laugh. It was almost as
if she said it was very good of Lady Tasker to say so.
"No, they're from life," she said. "As a matter of fact they're me, but
I really must move them; they aren't so remarkable as all that.... Oh,
you're not going, are you?----"
For Lady Tasker had given a jump, and a movement as sudden and sprightly
as if she had only that moment got freshly out of her bed. Nervously she
put out her hand, while her hostess looked politely disappointed.
"Oh, and I was hoping you'd come and join us in the garden! We've Brimby
there, the novelist, you know--and Wilkinson, the young Member--and Mr.
Strong, of the 'Novum'--and I should so much like to introduce Mr.
Suwarree Prang to you----"
"Oh, thank you so much--," sprang as effusively from Lady Tasker's lips
as if she had been a schoolgirl allowed for the first time to come down
to dinner, "--it's so good of you, but really I half hoped you'd be out
when I called--I only meant to leave cards--I'm going on to see my
niece, and really haven't a moment----"
"Oh, I'm sure Dorothy'd excuse you for once!----," Mrs. Pratt pressed
her.
"Oh, she wouldn't--I'm quite sure she wouldn't--she'd never forgive me
if she knew I'd been so near and hadn't called," said Lady Tasker
feverishly.... "How do I get to Dorothy's from here?"
"Oh, Mr. Wilkinson will take you, or Mr. Prang; but are you sure you
won't stay?"
Lady Tasker was so far from staying that she was already out of the hall
and walking quickly towards the green door in the eight-foot hedge.
"Thank you, thank you so much," she was murmuring hurriedly. "I don't
see your husband anywhere about--never mind--so good of
you--good-bye----"
"Come again soon, won't you?"
"Yes, yes--oh, yes!... No, no, please don't!" (Mrs. Pratt had made a
half-turn towards the hammock and the copper beech). "Straight across
the Heath you said, didn't you? I shall find it quite easily! Don't come
any further--good-bye----"
And, touching Mrs. Cosimo Pratt's extended fingers as timorously as she
might have touched those of the cast itself, she fairly broke into a
run. The door of The Witan closed behind her.
II
THE POND-ROOM
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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