P. whose
views on the Scotch land question would normally have struck fire and
fury from Lady Dunstable. She scarcely recognised his name, and he and
the Under-Secretary launched into the most despicable land heresies
under her very nose--unrebuked. She had not an epigram to throw at
anyone. But her eyes never failed to know where Doris Meadows was, and
indeed, though no one but the two or three initiated knew why, Doris was
in some mysterious but accepted way the centre of the party. Everybody
spoiled her; everybody smiled upon her. The white tea-gown which she
wore--miracle of delicate embroidery--had never suited Lady Dunstable;
it suited Doris to perfection. Under her own simple hat, her eyes--and
they were very fine eyes--shone with a soft and dancing humour. It was
all absurd--her being there--her dress--this tongue-tied hostess--and
these agreeable men who made much of her! She must get Arthur out of it
as soon as possible, and they would look back upon it and laugh. But for
the moment it was pleasant, it was stimulating! She found herself
arguing about the new novels, and standing at bay against a whole group
of clever folk who were tearing Mr.
Pages:
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172