BRIGADIER GENERAL NORRIS, C.M.G., and Lady Elfreda Norris proceeded to
East Africa at the end of January. The climate suits them, they get on
well with the natives and they like the life immensely. So far there is
not a cloud on their horizon. Just at first General Norris was a trifle
anxious about money, because the daughter of even an impoverished
marquis is apt to think expensively. But early in March Grandpapa
Angora died at the ripe age of eighty-seven and the old gentleman
really “cut up” better than most people expected. Anyhow, when the
will was proved each of his grandchildren benefited to the tune of
thirty thousand pounds. Moreover, in the year 1916, George Norris, or
Captain Norris as he was then, on the advice of a friend in the City
invested the whole of his savings in Burmah Oil, and like a wise young
man forgot all about the matter for several years. So you see, there’s
really no need for the young couple to worry about money.
However, these are mundane matters. What is vastly more important
is that the Lady Elfreda Norris has already presented to the Empire
a sturdy young male. And if the printers come out again on strike,
before this work sees the light she is quite likely to have presented
it with another one.
It is very doubtful if Lady Duckingfield will ever be a Miss
Cholmondeley or a Mrs. Humphry Ward. Charlotte Brontë is out of the
question. 4b Berkeley Square and Mount Pleasant, Wolverhampton, are
really so comfortable that all thought of “sturm und drang” has passed
for ever. And no one can be a Charlotte Brontë without it. Still, Lady
Duckingfield is not quite dead to ambition. The _Saturday Sentinel_
paid her such charming compliments on her essay, “The Art of Mr.
Galsworthy,” that she has in contemplation critical estimates of other
modern novelists. Her next subject will be...?
No, please guess again....
However.
There is no moral to this story. Life itself has no moral. The most
deserving people don’t always come out “on top.” And vice versa.