Retby,
_September 20th_.
[Sidenote: _Lady Theodosia's Pets_]
Dearest Mamma,--You might have prepared me for what Lady Theodosia
looks like, because when I arrived yesterday and was shown into her
boudoir, and found her lying on the sofa, covered with dogs and cats, I
as nearly as possible laughed out loud, and it would have been so rude.
She had evidently been asleep, and it looked like a mountain having an
earthquake when she got up, and animals rolled off her in all
directions. A poodle, two fox terriers, a toy Spitz, and a cat and
kitten, had all been sleeping in the nooks her outline makes. They all
barked in different keys, and between saying, "Down, Hector!" "Quiet,
Fluff!" "Hush, hush, Fanny!" "Did um know it was a stranger?" etc.,
etc., she got in that she was glad to see me, and hoped you were
better. When she stands up she is _colossal_! Her body dressed in the
last fashion, and then the queerest face with no neck, and
lemon-coloured hair parted down the middle, and not matching a bit with
the chignon of thick plaits at the back. It looks as if it were
strapped on with a black velvet band that comes across her forehead,
like in the pictures on the nursery screen at home that the Great-aunts
made when they were children. She seems as kind as possible, and has
the fattest wheezy voice.
[Sidenote: _"Clever Darlings"_]
Her room is appalling; it is full of Early Victorian furniture, and
horrid alabaster statuette things, under glass cases, and then a few
modern armchairs covered in gorgeous brocade, but it is all clawed by
the cats, and soiled by the dogs' muddy feet, and you are unable to
make up your mind where it will be safe to sit. When tea came in, which
it did immediately, you can't think what it was like! A St. Bernard and
another poodle joined the party, and while we were trying to get
something to eat and drink, they all begged or barked or pushed their
noses under the muffin dish lid, or took cakes from the side table; and
Lady Theodosia kept saying, "Clever darlings; see, they know where
their favourite bits are." It is impossible to have a connected
conversation with her, because between every few words she puts in
ejaculations about the dogs. I was obliged to simply bolt my crumpet
like a Frenchman, to keep it from being snatched from me. Just as we
were finishing tea, Mr. Doran and three men came in. He is a
teeny-weeny man with a big head and rather weak eyes, and he and she do
look odd together. What could it have been like when they trotted down
the aisle after getting married!
It is a mercy Lady Theodosia is only your second cousin, and that her
shape has not descended to our branch of the family. All the
"children"--as she calls the animals--barked again when the men came
in. There was only a _miserable_ tea left, and, when Mr. Doran ventured
to say the dogs had made things rather messy, Lady Theodosia
annihilated him. It was as if he had insulted her nearest and dearest!
But one of the men got quietly to the bell, and when the footmen came
they grasped the situation and brought some clean things, so tea
finished better than it had begun. Just before they went to dress Lady
Theodosia remembered to introduce them. The only young one is Mr.
Roper, the great shot, and the other two are Sir Augustus Grant and
Captain Fieldin; they are oldish.
When they had gone, Lady Theodosia said to me that men were a great
nuisance as a rule, but that she had a pet friend, a "dear docile
creature, so useful with the dogs," and he was coming back by the 6.30
train. You would have laughed, if you could have seen him when he did
arrive! A fair humble thing, with a squeaky voice and obsequious
manners. He had been up to town to get the dogs new muzzles, as the
muzzling order has just been put in force in this county. It appears
Lady Theodosia has him always here, and he attends to the dogs for a
home, but I would rather be a stable--boy, wouldn't you, Mamma? His
name is Frederick Harrington, and Lady Theodosia calls him "Frederick"
when she is pleased, and "Harrington" if anything puts her out. And as
she says it, "Harrington" sounds the fattest word you ever heard. I was
glad to get to my room!
Most of the house that I have yet seen, which was not refurnished when
she married in 1870, is really fine, with beautiful old furniture and
china; only everything within reach is scratched and spoilt by the
"children." It must make the family portraits turn in their frames to
see Fluff eating one of their tapestry footstools, or the cats clawing
the Venetian velvet chairs.
[Sidenote: _Feeding the Aborigines_]
There was a dinner party in the evening. As we went upstairs to dress,
Lady Theodosia told me about it. She said she was obliged to entertain
all the Aborigines twice a year, and that most people gave them garden
parties; but she found that too fatiguing, so she had two dinners in
the shooting season, and two at Easter, to which she asked every one.
She just puts all their names in a bag, and counts out twelve couples
for each party, and then she makes up the number to thirty-six with
odd creatures, daughters and old maids, and sons and curates, &c., and
she finds it a capital plan. She said, "I give 'em plenty to eat and
drink, and they draw for partners, and all go home as happy as possible
feeling there has been no favouritism!"
She explained that the lawyers and doctors enjoyed having their food
with the earls and baronets much more than just prancing about lawns.
And when I asked her how the earls and baronets liked it, she said
there were only three or four, and they had to put up with it or stay
at home; she had done it now for thirty years, and they were accustomed
to it; besides, she had the best _chef_ in England, and anyway it was a
nice change for people not knowing who they were going to be put next
to. It took her such a long time to tell me all this, and to see me to
my room, that I was almost late, and she did not get into the state
drawing-room until all the guests had arrived.
You never saw anything so funny as it was, Mamma. Mr. Doran was trying
to be polite to the odd collection, evidently not quite knowing which
was which. Old Lord and Lady Devnant were glaring at the rest of the
company from the hearth-rug, with a look of "You invade this mat at
your peril!" Sir Christopher Harford paying extravagant compliments to
the parson's wife (I knew which they were because I heard them
announced), and the "Squire" and Mrs. de Lacy--who came over with the
Conqueror--standing apart with their skinny daughters, all holding
their noses in the air. Everybody seemed to be in their best clothes,
and most of the women had flowers and tulle or little black feathers
sticking up in their hair, and bare red arms, and skirts inches off the
ground in front; you know the look. But everything seemed to be going
beautifully after Lady Theodosia rolled in (she does not walk, like
ordinary people)!
[Sidenote: _Drawing for Partners_]
Mr. Doran did the handing round of the drawing-papers, and they were
"Marshall and Snelgrove," and "Lewis and Allenby," and "Debenham and
Freebody," &c., and if you drew "Lewis" you went in with whoever drew
"Allenby," and so on; it was a capital plan, only for one incident. I
was near Lady Theodosia when Mr. Harrington rushed from the other end
of the room, and whispered to her in an agitated voice that the
"Dickens" of Lady Devnant's "Jones" was Dr. Pluffield. She was not on
speaking terms with him, having quarrelled with him for sending her
teething powders by mistake, when it ought to have been something for
her nerves. All Lady Theodosia said was--
"Harrington, you're a fool. What are their little differences to me? I
give 'em the best dinner in England, and they must settle the rest
themselves!"
So poor Mr. Harrington had to go back and smooth down Lady Devnant as
best he could; and presently we all started for the banqueting-hall.
There were several really decent county people there, of course, but
they all looked much the same as the others, except that they had
diamonds on. Old Admiral Brudnell, who has a crimson face, was taking
in the younger Miss de Lacy, and just in front of him were Dr.
Pluffield and Lady Devnant, whom the Admiral hates. I heard him say,
getting purple like a gobbler, "Come on, come on, I don't mean to let
that old catamaran get in front of me!" And he dragged Miss de Lacy
through the doorway, bumping the others to get past; and she told me
afterwards her funny-bone had got such a knock that she could hardly
hold her soup spoon!
[Sidenote: _Marshall and Snelgrove_]
It was quainter even than the frumps' dinner that Godmamma gave. I had
a very nervous young man with red hair and glasses to take me in; I
drew "Snelgrove," so he was "Marshall." He evidently had not understood
a bit about the drawing, and kept calling me "Miss Snelgrove," until I
was obliged to say to him, "But my name is not Snelgrove any more than
yours is Marshall."
"But my name _is_ Marshall," he said, "and I was told to find a lady of
the name of 'Snelgrove,' and I wondered at the strange coincidence."
He looked so dreadfully distressed that I had to explain to him; and he
got so nervous at his mistake that he hardly spoke for the rest of
dinner.
The dishes were exquisite, and Lady Theodosia enjoyed them all, in
spite of "Fanny" (that is the Spitz) constantly falling off her lap,
and having to be fished for by her own footman, who always stands
behind her chair, ready for these emergencies. I call it very plucky of
the dog to go on trying; for what lap Lady Theodosia has is so steep it
must be like trying to sleep on the dome of St. Paul's. Mr. Roper sat
at my other side, and after a while he talked to me; he said he came
every year to shoot partridges, and it was always the same. On the
night he arrived there was always this dinner party, and some years the
most absurd things had happened, but Lady Theodosia did not care a
button. He thought there were a good many advantages in being a Duke's
daughter; they don't dare to offend her, he said, although they are
ready to tear one another's eyes out when they are put with the wrong
people. Lady Theodosia puffed a good deal as dinner went on, I could
hear her from where I sat. She is in slight mourning, so below her
diamond necklace--which is magnificent, but has not been cleaned for
years--she had a set of five lockets, on a chain all made of bog oak,
and afterwards I found each locket had a portrait of some pet animal
who is dead in it, and a piece of its hair. You would never guess that
she is Lady Cecilia's sister, except for the bulgy eyes. Towards the
end of dinner Mr. Doran got so gay, he talked and laughed so you would
not have recognised him, as ordinarily he is a timid little thing.
[Sidenote: _After Dinner_]
When we returned to the great drawing-room, it was really comic. Lady
Theodosia did not make any pretence of talking to the people. Her whole
attention was with the "children," who had just been let loose from her
boudoir, where her maid had been keeping them company while we dined.
They were as jealous as possible of Fanny, who never leaves any part of
Lady Theodosia she can stick on to. She is so small that she gets lots
of nice rides asleep on the folds of her velvet train. Most of the
company were terrified at this avalanche of dogs, and kept saying, when
they came and sniffed and barked at them, "poor doggie," "nice doggie,"
"good doggie," etc., in different keys of nervousness. I felt glad
Agnès had insisted that I should not put on one of my best dresses. She
highly disapproves of this place. As well spend the time in the Jardin
des Plantes with the cage doors undone, she says!
Now and then, when Lady Theodosia could bring herself to remember she
had a party, she would make a dash at some one, and as likely as not
call them by a wrong name. Lady Devnant and Mrs. de Lacy and the few
more county people made a little ring with her by themselves, and
gradually the doctors', and parsons', and lawyers' families got
together, and so things settled down, and we were getting on quite
nicely when the men came in. It did all seem queer after the extreme
ceremony and politeness in France. When she had fed them, Lady
Theodosia seemed to think her duty to her guests had ended.
Mr. Doran was still as gay as possible, and insisted upon Mrs.
Pluffield singing; it was a love-and-tombstone kind of song, and
sounded so silly and old-fashioned. And after that lots of people had
to sing, and I felt so sorry for them; but soon their carriages came,
and they were able to go home; if I were they nothing would induce me
to come again.
I got up early to write this as the post goes at an unearthly hour, so
now I must go down to breakfast.--Good-bye, dear Mamma, your
affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.
Retby,
_September 22nd_.
[Sidenote: _Settling Down_]
Dearest Mamma,--I was surprised yesterday when I got down to breakfast
to find Lady Theodosia already there. She is awfully active, and puffs
about everywhere like a steam-engine. She will pour out the tea and
coffee herself, and there is just the one long table, not a lot of
little ones like at Nazeby; but our party is quite small, the four
other guns were to come from the neighbourhood. Lady Theodosia asks you
if you take sugar and cream, and then perhaps a dog takes off her
attention, and as likely as not, when she remembers the pouring out,
you get just what you have said you don't take. I wonder she does not
leave it to the servants.
Mr. Doran was as quiet as a mouse, and said he had a bad headache. The
three other men had enormous breakfasts, and did not speak much, except
that Captain Fieldin asked if we were not coming out to lunch; and Lady
Theodosia said of course we were--she intended to drive me in her pony
carriage. When they had all started, she took me back to the boudoir,
as it was a Wednesday, and the state apartments were on show, and she
hates meeting the tourists from Bradford. I think it must be dreadful
having to let everybody look through your home, just because you have
fine pictures, and it is historical, and a prince got murdered there a
hundred years ago. Mr. Doran inherited it through his mother, I think
you said, as there are no Lord Retbys left.
[Sidenote: _A Show Place_]
I went to get the photograph of you I always have on my dressing-table,
to show it to Lady Theodosia, and I met quite a troop of tourists on
the stairs, and all the place railed off with fat red cords, and
everything being explained to them by a guide who has the appearance of
a very haughty butler, and lives here just to do this, and look after
the things. The tourists stared at me because I was inside the rope,
just as if I had been a Royalty, and whispered and nudged one another,
and one said, "Is that Lady Theodosia?" and I felt inclined to call out
"No, not by twelve stone." It was funny seeing them. The housekeeper
hates it; she says it takes six housemaids the rest of the day removing
their traces, and getting rid of the smell. And as for the Bank Holiday
ones, they have no respect for the house at all. Lady Theodosia told me
the housekeeper came to her nearly weeping after the last one. "Oh, my
lady," she said, "they treats us as if we was _ruins_."
Mr. Harrington had not been allowed to shoot, because the St. Bernard
and Fluff hated their muzzles so, when they were tried on, that he had
to go in to the local harness-maker and have them altered under his own
eye. He got back just as we were starting for lunch, and Lady Theodosia
made him come with us, and sent the groom on with the lunch carts. She
drives one of those old-fashioned, very low pony-shays, with a seat up
behind for the groom, and two such ducks of ponies. There hardly seemed
room for me beside her, and the springs seemed dreadfully down on her
side. She generally sits in the middle when alone, Mr. Harrington told
me afterwards. She noticed about the springs herself, and said,
"Frederick, you must lean all your weight on the other side." We must
have looked odd going along; I squashed in beside her with a poodle and
Fanny at my feet, and poor Mr. Harrington clinging to one side like
grim death, so as to try and get the balance more level. It seemed
quite a long drive, and lunch was laid out on a trestle table in a
farmhouse garden, and was a splendid repast, with hot _entrées_, and
Lady Theodosia had some of them all.
[Sidenote: _Mr. Doran's Philanthropy_]
It appears Captain Fieldin and Sir Augustus Grant are constantly
staying here; they help to ride Mr. Doran's horses and shoot his birds.
They are all old friends, and rather hard up, so Mr. Doran just keeps
them. He--Mr. Doran--seems different after meals; from being as quiet
as a lamb, he gets quite coarse and blunt. The rest of the party were
just the kind of neighbours that always come to shoot. Mr. Roper told
me they never have smart parties, with only the best shots, and heaps
of beautiful ladies. Mr. Doran asks just any one he likes, or he
happens to meet, and the shooting is some of the best in England, and
awfully well preserved.
Lady Theodosia had a very short tweed skirt on, a black velvet jacket
with bugles, and a boat-shaped hat and cocks' feathers; but she always
wears the black velvet band round her forehead. Her ankles seemed to
be falling over the tops of her boots, and as she only walked from the
carriage to the lunch table, I don't think her skirt need have been so
short; do you, Mamma? But although she was got up like an old gipsy you
could not help seeing through it all that she really is well-bred; I
don't think even Agnès would dare to be uppish with her. They live here
at Retby all the year round. The town house is only opened for three
days, when Lady Theodosia comes up for the Drawing-room. And they seem
to have a lot of these rather dull, oldish men friends who make long
visits.
Going home after lunch Lady Theodosia took several of the pies and
joints to poor people in the cottages near, and she was so nice to
them, and so friendly; she knows them all and all their affairs, and
never makes mistakes with their names, or is rude and discourteous as
she was to the people at the dinner party. They all adore her. She
hates the middle classes, she says, she would like to live in Russia,
where there are only the upper and lower.
[Sidenote: _Croquet under Difficulties_]
When we got back, Lord and Lady Tyneville had arrived with their two
daughters. They are about my age, and quite nice and pretty; but their
mother dresses them so queerly, they look rather guys. I am glad,
Mamma, that you have none of those silly ideas, and that I have not got
to have my hair in a large bun with ribbons twisted in it for dinner.
They seem quite accustomed to stay here, and know all the dogs and
their ways. They are much nicer than French girls, but not so
attractive as Miss La Touche. We had an early tea in the hall, and
after tea we played croquet until it got dark, though one could not get
on very well as the dogs constantly carried off the balls in their
mouths, and one had to guess where to put them back, and in that way
Lady Theodosia, who was my partner, managed to get through three hoops
she wouldn't have otherwise. It isn't much fun playing so late in the
year, as it gets so cold.
I think the elder Miss Everleigh is in love with Mr. Roper, because she
blushed, just as they do in books, when he came in, and from being
quiet and nice, got rather gigglish. I hope I shan't do that when I am
in love.
We had quite a gay dinner; Lady Tyneville talks all the time, and says
such funny things.
I am really enjoying myself very much in spite of there being no
excitements, like the Marquis and the Vicomte. To-day we are going to
make an excursion into Hernminster to see the Cathedral, and to-morrow
they shoot again.--Good-bye, dear Mamma, with love from your
affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.
RETBY, _Thursday_.
Dearest Mamma,--I don't think I care about looking at churches much.
They don't smell here as they do in France, but on the other hand they
look deserted, and as if no one cared a pin, and there are generally
repairs going on or monuments piled up at the side waiting to be put
back or something that doesn't look tidy--in the big ones I mean, like
York and Hernminster that we saw yesterday. Mr. Doran drove us in on
the coach, and Lady Theodosia sat on the box beside him. It was too
wonderful to see her climbing up, and from the near side she completely
hid Mr. Doran; the reins looked as if they were staying up by
themselves, you could not see even his hands, her mountainous outline
blocked all the space. Miss Everleigh and Mr. Roper and I and Sir
Augustus sat in the seat behind the box seat, and the other Everleigh
sat with her father in the back, while Mr. Harrington had to go inside
with Lady Tyneville as she was afraid of the cold wind. They must have
had a nice time, for both poodles were in there too, and one terrier,
and we could hear them barking constantly. Fanny, who has a wonderful
sense of balance, was poised somewhere on Lady Theodosia. The horses
are beauties and we went at a splendid pace.
[Sidenote: _An Agreeable Drive_]
Sir Augustus doesn't seem so old when he is sitting by you; he said a
lot of nice things to me. We went straight to the "Red Lion" and had
lunch, and it was a horrid meal, everything over or underdone, and
messy and nasty. The dinner at a teeny place like Caudebec in France
was delicious. I wonder why food at country hotels in England is so
bad? At Retby Lady Theodosia won't touch anything unless it is
absolutely perfect. She sent a dish away yesterday just because a whiff
of some flavouring she does not like came to her, but at the "Red Lion"
she did not grumble at all; it must be for the same reason that wetting
their feet doesn't give French people cold if it is at a national
sport, that made her put up with the lunch because it was English and
had always been the same.
I was glad to have a nice piece of cheese. All the time I was with
Godmamma I was not allowed to, as it isn't considered proper for girls
there, and when I asked Victorine why one day, she told me it gave
ideas, and was too exciting, whatever that could mean. So at the "Red
Lion" I just had two helpings to see, as this is the first chance I
have had, as you don't care for cheese at home. But nothing happened, I
did not feel at all excited, so it must be because they are French.
Mustn't it?
[Sidenote: _Country Shopping_]
First we went to a curiosity shop before going to the Cathedral, and
there was such an odd man owned it. "My good Griggson," Lady Theodosia
called him; he seemed quite pleased--although we none of us bought
anything--and so friendly with Lady Theodosia. When we had finished
trotting about looking at the old streets and the Cathedral, we went to
buy some mauve silk to line a cushion that Lady Tyneville has
embroidered as a present to Lady Theodosia. It is so funny in these
country shops, they always bring you what you don't want. Lady
Tyneville said she wanted mauve, and showed her pattern, and after some
time the girl who served her came back and said, "Oh! we are out of
mauve, but green is being very much worn."
We went back to the "Red Lion" and Mr. Doran and Captain Fieldin joined
us. They had been at the Club all the time, and were full of local news
about the cub hunting, &c. On the way back to Retby Sir Augustus told
me he was struck with me the moment he came into Lady Theodosia's
boudoir, and he tried to take hold of my hand. I call it very queer,
don't you? I suppose it is because they think I am young and want
encouraging, but I simply detest it, and I told him so. I said, "Why
should you want to hold my hand?" and when he looked foolish and
mumbled some answer, I just said, "Because if you are afraid of
falling, and it is to hold on, there is the outside rail of the coach
for you; I _hate_ being pawed." He said I was a disagreeable little
thing, and would never get on in life. But you can see, Mamma, how
everything has changed since you were young.
[Sidenote: _Mr. Harrington's Fault_]
Lady Theodosia put on such a splendid purple brocade tea-gown for tea,
but Fluff would jump up at the tray, and succeeded at last in upsetting
a whole jug of cream over her. She was sitting in a very low chair that
it is difficult to get out of, and she looked quite piteous with
billows of cream rolling off her; it got into Fanny's nose and made her
sneeze, and that annoyed the other dogs, and they all began to fight,
and the St. Bernard joined in, and in his excitement he overturned the
whole table and tray. You never saw such a catastrophe! The dogs got
quite wild with joy, and left off fighting to gobble cakes, and when
Mr. Harrington, who had been away writing letters, rushed in to see
what the commotion was, he did catch it! We extricated Lady Theodosia
from masses of broken china and dribbles of jam, in the most awful
rage. She said it was entirely Mr. Harrington's fault for not being
there to look after the dogs. Considering she had sent him to write
about their muzzles, I do call it hard, don't you? Mr. Doran came in,
and when he saw the best Crown Derby smashed on the floor, and the
teapot all bent, he became quite transformed, and swore _dreadfully_.
He said such rude words, Mamma, that I cannot even write them, and it
ended up with,
"If you keep a d----d puppy to look after your other d----d puppies,
why the devil don't you see he does it!"
I hope you aren't awfully shocked, Mamma, at me writing that; I was
obliged to, to show you what awful creatures men really are underneath,
even if their outsides look as meek as Mr. Doran's. Lady Theodosia
burst into tears, and it was altogether a fearful scene if it had not
been so funny to look at. We none of us got any tea, for by the time
Lady Theodosia had been got to dry her eyes, and things were cleared
up, we were all only too glad to disperse. I am sure a lot of children
could not be so naughty as these dogs are.
[Sidenote: _A prudent Retirement_]
Dinner began by being rather strained, but gradually got quite gay. Mr.
Doran would have up three different brands of champagne for every one
to try, and the men seemed to like them very much. By dessert
everything was lively again, and dinner ended by Mr. Doran singing "The
hounds of the Meynell," with one foot on the table as gay as a lark.
But wasn't it tiresome, Mamma? when we got into the drawing-room, Lady
Theodosia said we had had a long day, and must be tired, and she packed
the two Everleighs and me off to bed before the men came in, and so
here I am writing to you, because it is ridiculous to suppose I am
going to sleep at this hour. Agnès and I leave by the early train on
Saturday morning, so good-bye till then, dear Mamma; love from your
affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.