If she only knew! The unmarried ones who came down the passage to talk to
mademoiselle were not half so saucy as the old fellows with wives
somewhere. Lord Bentworth was married, and he wanted me to kiss him,
whereas Colonel Grimston had no wife, and he never said Bo! to a goose.
And I do wonder what she thought Mr. Carruthers was going to do to me,
that it would have been wise for me to stay up in my rooms. Perhaps she
thinks diplomats, having lived in foreign places, are sort of wild beasts.
My room is frightful after my pretty rosy chintzes at Branches. Nasty
yellowish wood furniture, and nothing much matching; however, there are
plenty of wardrobes, so Véronique is content.
They were all in the drawing-room when I got down, and Malcolm, the eldest
son, who is in a Highland militia regiment, had arrived by a seven-o'clock
train.
I had that dreadful feeling of being very late and Mr. Montgomerie wanting
to swear at me, though it was only a minute past a quarter to eight.
He said "Burrrr" several times, and flew off to the dining-room with me
tucked under his arm, murmuring it gave no cook a chance to keep the
dinner waiting. So I expected something wonderful in the way of food, but
it is not half so good as our chef sent up at Branches. And the footmen
are not all the same height, and their liveries don't fit like Mrs.
Carruthers always insisted that ours should do.
Malcolm _is_ a titsy pootsy man. Not as tall as I am, and thin as a rail,
with a look of his knees being too near together. He must be awful in a
kilt, and I am sure he shivers when the wind blows--he has that air. I
don't like kilts--unless men are big, strong, bronzed creatures that don't
seem ashamed of their bare bits. I saw some splendid specimens marching,
once, in Edinburgh, and they swung their skirts just like the beautiful
ladies in the Bois, when mademoiselle and I went out of the Allée Mrs.
Carruthers told us to try always to walk in.
Lady Catherine talked a great deal at dinner about politics and her
different charities, and the four girls were so respectful and interested,
but Mr. Montgomerie contradicted her whenever he could. I was glad when we
went into the drawing-room.
That first evening was the worst of all, because we were all so strange;
one seems to get acclimatized to whatever it is after a while.
Lady Katherine asked me if I had not some fancy-work to do. Kirstie had
begun her ties, and Jean the altar-cloth, again.
"Do let Maggie run to your room and fetch it for you," she said.
I was obliged to tell her I never did any. "But I--I can trim hats," I
said; it really seemed awful not to be able to do anything like them, I
felt I must say this as a kind of defence for myself.
However, she seemed to think that hardly a lady's employment.
"How clever of you!" Kirstie exclaimed. "I wish I could, but don't you
find that intermittent? You can't trim them all the time. Don't you feel
the want of a constant employment?"
I was obliged to say I had not felt like that yet, but I could not tell
them I particularly loved sitting perfectly still, doing nothing.
Jessie and Maggie played Patience at two tables which folded up, and which
they brought out and sat down to with a deliberate accustomed look which
made me know at once they did this every night, and that I should see
those tables planted exactly on those two spots of carpet every evening
during my whole stay. I suppose it is because they cannot bring the
poker-work and the bookbinding into the drawing-room.
"Won't you play us something?" Lady Katherine asked, plaintively.
Evidently it was not permitted to do nothing, so I got up and went to the
piano.
Fortunately I know heaps of things by heart, and I love them, and would
have gone on and on, so as to fill up the time, but they all said "Thank
you" in a chorus after each bit, and it rather put me off.
Mr. Montgomerie and Malcolm did not come in for ages, and I could see Lady
Katherine getting uneasy. One or two things at dinner suggested to me that
these two were not on the best terms, perhaps she feared they had come to
blows in the dining-room. The Scotch, Mrs. Carruthers said, have all kinds
of rough customs that other nations do not keep up any longer.
They did turn up at last, and Mr. Montgomerie was purple all over his
face, and Malcolm a pale green, but there were no bruises on him; only one
could see they had had a terrible quarrel.
There is something in breeding, after all, even if one is of a barbarous
country. Lady Katherine behaved so well, and talked charities and politics
faster than ever, and did not give them time for any further outburst,
though I fancy I heard a few "damns" mixed with the "burrrrs," and not
without the "n" on just for ornament, like Lord Robert's.
It was a frightful evening.
Wednesday, _November 9th._
(Continued.)
Malcolm walked beside me going to church the next day. He looked a little
less depressed, and I tried to cheer him up.
He did not tell me what his worries were, but Jean had said something
about it when she came into my room as I was getting ready. It appears he
has got into trouble over a horse called Angela Grey--Jean gathered this
from Lady Katherine; she said her father was very angry about it, as he
had spent so much money on it.
To me it does not sound like a horse's name, and I told Jean so, but she
was perfectly horrified, and said it must be a horse, because they were
not acquainted with any Angela Grey, and did not even know any Greys at
all. So it must be a horse!
I think that a ridiculous reason, as Mrs. Carruthers said all young men
knew people one wouldn't want to; and it was silly to make a fuss about
it, and that they couldn't help it, and they would be very dull if they
were as good as gold, like girls.
But I expect Lady Katherine thinks differently about things to Mrs.
Carruthers, and the daughters the same.