They
stopped a month in this 'otel last year, so I have the honour of
m'luds acquaintance."
"Lady Brighthelmston is not living, I should judge," remarked
Salemina, in the tone of one who thinks it hardly worth while to
ask.
"Oh, yes, miss, she's alive and 'earty; but the daughters manages
everythink, and what they down't manage the h'orphan nieces does.
The 'ouse is run for the young ladies, but m'ludanlady seems to
enjoy it."
Dovermarle Street was so interesting during the next few days that
we could scarcely bear to leave it, lest something exciting should
happen in our absence.
"A ball is so confining!" said Francesca, who had come back from the
corner of Piccadilly to watch the unloading of a huge van, and found
that it had no intention of stopping at Number Nine on the opposite
side.
First came a small army of charwomen, who scrubbed the house from
top to bottom. Then came men with canvas for floors, bronzes and
jardinieres and somebody's family portraits from an auction-room,
chairs and sofas and draperies from an upholsterer's.
The night before the event itself I announced my intention of
staying in our own drawing-room the whole of the next day. "I am
more interested in Patricia's debut," I said, "than anything else
that can possibly happen in London.
