The Visits of Elizabeth | Page 2

with the green eyes
is Mrs. de Yorburgh-Smith. I am sure she is a pig. The quite decent
man, "Harry," is a Marquis--the Marquis of Valmond--because he took
Lady Cecilia in to dinner. He is playing in the Nazeby Eleven.
There is a woman I like, with stick-out teeth; her name is Mrs.
Vavaseur. She knows you, and she is awfully nice, though so plain, and
she never looks either over your head, or all up and down, or talks to
you when she is thinking of something else. There are heaps more
women, and the eleven men, so we are a party of about twenty-five; but
you will see their names in the paper.
Such a bore took me in! He began about the dust again, but I could not
stand that, so I said that every one had already asked me about it. So he
said "Oh!" and went on with his soup.
[Sidenote: The Cricket Talk]
At the other side was another of the Eleven, and he said, Did I like
cricket? And I said, No, I hated always having to field (which was what
I did, you know, when I played with the Byrne boys at Biarritz); and I
asked him if he was a good player, and he said "No," so I said I
supposed he always had to field too, then; and he said, No, that
sometimes they allowed him a bat, and so I said I was sure that wasn't
the same game I played; and he laughed as if I had said something
funny--his name is Lord George Lane--and the other one laughed too,
and they both looked idiots, and so I did not say any more about that.
But we talked on all the time, and every one else seemed to be having
such fun, and they all call each other by pet names, and shorten up all
their adjectives (it is adjectives I mean, not adverbs). I am sure you
made a mistake in what you told me, that all well-bred people behave
nicely at dinner, and sit up, because they don't a bit; lots of them put
their elbows on the table, and nearly all sat anyhow in their chairs.
Only Lady Cecilia and Mrs. Vavaseur behaved like you; but then they
are both quite old--over forty.
They all talk about things that no stranger could understand, but I dare

say I shall pick it up presently. And after dinner, in the drawing-room,
Lady Cecilia did introduce me to two girls--the Roose girls--you know.
Well, Lady Jane is the best of the two; Lady Violet is a lump. They
both poke their heads, and Jane turns in her toes. They have rather the
look in their eyes of people with tight boots. Violet said, "Do you
bicycle?" and I said, "Yes, sometimes;" and she said, with a big gasp:
"Jane and I adore it. We have been ten miles since tea with Captain
Winchester and Mr. Wertz."
[Sidenote: An African Millionaire]
I did not think that interesting, but still we talked. They asked me
stacks of questions, but did not wait for the answers much. Mr. Wertz is
the African millionaire. He does not play cricket, and, when the men
came in afterwards, he crossed over to us, and Jane introduced him to
me when he had talked a little. He is quite a sort of gentleman, and is
very much at home with every one. He laughed at everything I said.
Mrs. Smith (such bosh putting "de Yorburgh" on!) sat on a big sofa
with Lord Valmond, and she opened and shut her eyes at him, and Jane
Roose says she takes every one's friend away; and Lord George Lane
came up, and we talked, and he wasn't such an idiot as at dinner, and he
has nice teeth. All the rest, except the Rooses and me, are married--the
women, I mean--except Miss La Touche, but she is just the same,
because she sits with the married lot, and they all chat together, and
Violet Roose says she is a cat, but I think she looks nice; she is so
pretty, and her hair is done at the right angle, because it is like Agnès
does mine, and she has nice scent on; and I hope it won't rain
to-morrow, and good-night, dear Mamma.--Your affectionate daughter,
Elizabeth.
P.S.--Jane Roose says Miss La Touche will never get married; she is
too smart, and all the married women's men talk to her, and that the
best tone is to look rather dowdy; but I don't believe it, and I would
rather be like Miss La Touche. E.
Elizabeth received an immediate reply to her letter, and the next one
began:

Nazeby Hall, 28th July.
Dearest Mamma,--I am sorry you find I use