MY DEAR MARJORIE,--You _are_ hard on poor ORIEL CRAMPTON when you say
that philanthropy, brisk walks, a bad temper, and a taste for collecting
postage-stamps, form the most hideous combination any human being could
imagine. Of course, I admit he's a little dreary. All is now over
between us. Things reached a climax one rainy afternoon when BABY
BEAUMONT, in a mood of intense juvenility, offered "to teach ORIEL to
make barley-sugar." Forgeting his school-days, ORIEL patronisingly said
he was glad to learn from anyone. So BABY seized ORIEL'S arm, twisted it
round in the classical manner, and then hit the twist. It was quite
impossible to help laughing when ORIEL, pale with fury, declared he
could take a joke, supposed this was the New Humour, and left the room.
"What can you expect," said BABY, "of the middle-aged?" (ORIEL is _not_
twenty-four yet.)
That evening I wrote a note, putting an end to our engagement.
I gave it to him in the billiard-room, and--he gave _me_ one at the same
time, and--_to the same effect_! I felt dreadfully hurt at his throwing
me over. He wrote, "I feel I have no right to ask you, who are so fitted
to shine in the society of the _gay and decadent_" (this meant BABY),
"to share a life that will be wholly dedicated to the amelioration of
the condition of the poorer classes," &c.
In the midst of our agitation, we were compelled to play "musical
chairs" with the others, as if nothing had happened! What a mockery it
seemed!
We parted amicably. He asked if I should like to hear, from time to
time, of the progress of his life-work, and _I_ promised to be his
sister.... When he went away, a strange sense of loss came over me....
One page in my life had been turned for ever!... BABY tried to console
me by observing that _now_ there would be a chance of getting plenty of
hot water for baths. ORIEL used to drink it all.
At the tennis-party Mrs. LORNE HOPPER seemed utterly bored by Captain
MASHINGTON. She said my dress wanted "taking up on the shoulders," and
that the sleeves were exaggerated. (Exaggerated! I should hope they
were!) Mr. LORNE HOPPER seemed nice, and very quiet, and harmless at
first, but it gradually came out that he does sketches at the piano in
the style of CORNEY GRAIN, and what is worse, expects to be asked to do
them.
Lady TAYMER implored us all to laugh, and we did our best to please our
hostess; but the room was nearly empty in five minutes.
At dinner, BABY talked of the bad taste and imbecility of practical
jokes. In the evening, he wrote to seventeen periodicals denying he had
written _The Mauve Camellia_, and asking to have it contradicted. We
waltzed. Captain MASHINGTON dances better than ever, and _has_ nice
eyes. That night I found hair-brushes in my bed, I see nothing funny in
it, and shall not speak to BABY BEAUMONT until he apologises.
Great excitement prevailed here last week. It was discovered that
SAMOVARSKI, the great Russian pianist, was in the neighbourhood. He
accepted an invitation to come here for two days. Imagine the joy of the
LYON TAYMERS! They sent out invitations with "To meet M. SAMOVARSKI,"
printed on the cards. He is known to be rather erratic, but as he was
actually to stay in the house it seemed quite safe. Thirty-six people
came to a dinner in his honour.
SAMOVARSKI arrived at seven, asked for some lager beer, and went
straight to bed. Nothing on earth would induce him to get up, or even to
unlock his door or answer an inquiry. It was a terrible evening. The
TAYMERS hoped on for the next day. The great composer got up at two.
Many people had stayed on the chance of hearing him play. It was a
beautiful day, and Lady TAYMER entreated to be allowed to drive him
round the neighbourhood. He declined, and spent the whole afternoon
playing piquet with his secretary. At dinner, he talked absurdities
about the Chinese war, refusing even to _mention_ music--which it seems
he detests--and then, very courteously, begged to be excused, as he had
to correct the proofs of his article "Impressions of English Country
Life" for some Moscow journal.... Do not mention the subject to the
TAYMERS when you see them. We are going to have private theatricals!! I
will write again soon.
Your loving friend,