Of their immaculate
linen, and there was an Indian potentate with a jewelled turban who
divided attention with the dowager duchess's diamond soup-tureen.
At twelve-thirty Lord Brighthelmston chided Celandine for flirting
too much.
At twelve-forty Lady Brighthelmston reminded Violet (who was a
h'orphan niece) that the beautiful being in the white uniform was
not the eldest son.
At twelve-fifty there arrived an elderly gentleman, before whom the
servants bowed low. Lord Brighthelmston went to fetch Patricia, who
chanced to be sitting out a dance with Terence. The three came out
on the balcony, which was deserted, in the near prospect of supper,
and the personage - whom we suspected to be Patricia's godfather -
took from his waistcoat pocket a string of pearls, and, clasping it
round her white throat, stooped gently and kissed her forehead.
Then at one o'clock came supper. Francesca and I had secretly
provided for that contingency, and curling up on a sofa we drew
toward us a little table which Dawson had spread with a galantine of
chicken, some cress sandwiches, and a jug of milk.
At one-thirty we were quite overcome with sleep, and retired to our
beds, where of course we speedily grew wakeful.
"It is giving a ball, not going to one, that is so exhausting!"
yawned Francesca.
