Aunts -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Love stories; Stepmothers -- Fiction
I made no response, but my heart throbbed when she mentioned the roses.
I wondered if Captain Carbury were coming to dinner. I forgot altogether
the fact that Captain Carbury and my father, for some extraordinary
reason, did not wish to meet. As I considered the possibility of the
Captain's dining with us that evening, something else happened. I began
to long inexpressibly for him. I earnestly hoped he would come, that he
would be the person allotted to take me in to dinner, that I should sit
by his side, and that I should have an opportunity of scolding him--of
course, very gently--with regard to the roses. I made up my mind to tell
him that he was foolishly extravagant, and to implore of him not to do
such a thing again. It would be impossible for me to be too severe when
I was wearing his roses, for I determined just when Morris was arranging
my hat at the most becoming angle not to wear the silver thing in my
hair, but a bunch of the softest roses, exactly where he would like to
see them, nestling behind my ear.
Morris was very quick in getting me into my afternoon costume, and a
few minutes later my stepmother and I were bowling away in the direction
of Hyde Park. There we joined a long procession of carriages and motors.
It was a beautiful day, and we both looked around us, enjoying the gay
and brilliant scene.
Lady Helen was dressed in her usual extravagant style, and her face was
covered with a thick veil. She managed by this means to keep all
appearance of age at bay, and looked quite an elegant woman of the world
as she leaned back in her expensive motor-car with her wonderful sables
round her shoulders. By and by a look of excitement flashed from her
dark eyes. She desired the chauffeur to stop. We pulled up at the kerb,
and a fine, aristocratic-looking man with a slightly withered face and
tired grey eyes came forward. I had met him several times at different
balls and assemblies. I liked him, and felt that there was even a
possibility of our being friends. I regarded him in the light of an
uncle.
"How do you do, Lord Hawtrey?" said Lady Helen.
Lord Hawtrey bowed to Lady Helen. Then he bowed to me. His tired eyes
lit up with a smile, and he began to talk eagerly. While he talked he
looked at me, and each moment it seemed to me that his eyes grew less
tired, and the wrinkles seemed to leave his face. He certainly had a
very fatherly manner towards me, and I smiled back at him in return, and
felt very happy. I noticed on that special occasion, however, that there
was a great deal of sadness behind his outward suavity of manner. I
pitied him for this, as it was my nature to pity all creatures in the
world who were not perfectly happy.
"I am so glad you are coming to dine to-night," said Lady Helen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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