When I complained that the scent everywhere was making me headachy, Betty said she liked it. She wished our mother would let us use scent. The only thing Betty found the least fault with was the way I was doing her hair. She wanted it put up "in honour of London." But she looked such a darling with her short curls lying on her neck that I was doing it in the everyday way. And there wasn't time now for anything more than to fasten on the little wreath, for the woman came to say madam had sent up for us. So I hurried Betty into her frock, the woman watching out of those hard eyes of hers. Nobody in the whole of Betty's life had looked at her like that. The woman didn't want us to stop even to find a handkerchief. And after all, just as Betty was coming, the woman said: "Wait a minute," and wanted to shut the door. I stood on the threshold waiting. A gentleman was coming upstairs. With his hat on! He stared at me as he went by, and so did the footman who followed him. I drew back into the room and the woman shut the door. "Who was that gentleman?" I asked. She seemed not to hear. So I asked again. "_That_--oh, that is the doctor," she said. Naturally we asked if somebody was ill. "Not very," she answered in such a peculiar way we said no more. She stood and watched us as we went downstairs. * * * * * "Our first London dinner-party," Bettina whispered. We took hands. We were shaking with excitement. We saw ourselves going by in the mirrors between the golden columns. The whole place was full of tall girls in white, and little girls in apple-green, wearing forget-me-not wreaths in their hair. CHAPTER XXVII AT DINNER Down in the lower hall were the men-servants with their watchful eyes. They showed us the drawing-room door. As we came in, I was conscious again of Aunt Josephine's appraising look. Then of the elaborate grey head turning towards an old man, as if to ask: Well, what do you think of my nieces? He had a red blotchy face. The kind of red that is crossed by little purple lines like the tracery of very tortuous rivers on a map. The lines ran zigzagging into his nose, which was thick at the end, round and shining. He had no hair except a sandy fringe, and his eyes, which had no lashes, looked as if he had a cold. He was introduced as "an old friend of mine"--but she forgot to tell us his name. We heard him called Colonel. Through all the scent we could not help noticing that he smelled of brandy. I looked round for the beautiful foreign lady. But I was prepared to find her late, after seeing her idling at her door, in a dressing-gown, so near the dinner-hour.