The Twelfth Hour
nstock! Lady
" said the butler, with a sudden and depressing change of manner, from correc
You look all ri
you can understand that, sir. My harsthma" (so he pro
xpression, and generally with an air of more self-control than seemed required for the occasion-walked up
icity, can
ere? Don'
on he entered the r
about everything-papa and the party-and, look out, dear, don't tread on my dresses!
-looking maid. Her little oval face, with its soft cloudy hair growing low on the forehead, long blue eyes, and rosebud mouth, had something of the romantic improbability of an eighteenth-century miniature. From the age of two Felicity had been an acknowledged beauty. She profited by her grasp of this fact merely by being more fra
brilliance, Lord Chetwode had insisted on her making the match of the previous season. He was a good-looking, amiable, and wealthy young man, who was as lavish as if
was not an expert in handwriting, nor had she time or patience to decipher them. So she merely treasured them (unread) in a green and white striped silk box. For under all her outward sentimentality, Felicity was full of tenderness, especially for her husband. This was not surprising, f
of this, and amidst all her tapestry and old French furniture, Felicity had a very contemporary air. About everything was the recent look characteristic of the home of a lately married couple. The room looked as if
es, English and French novels, and cigarettes were freely scattered about, and an expert would have seen at a glance that the dresses lying
a pink curved sofa,
icity, I want t
darl
what's going to win
's a certainty. But his certainties! (Everett, look out. You've been overdoing the waving lately. Remember how careful I have to b
r, as usual. One of the govern
et anywhere. It's a wonderful mixture,-a sort of Russian salad. How exciting it is, for instance,
, they've both refused,
me to laugh. Do you deny papa's peculiar ta
over about his new opera. He's all right. At
the great card th
oy Beaumont,
arth's he
apital chap, really. The only thing is, he wears hats that he t
is hats suit him?" said L
, because they're right, not because--Oh, girls don't understand dress! Don't le
they could," murmured Feli
Mervyn, the actor, are co
the only stupid person in a crowd of clever people? They
their wives, and Aunt William,
k millionaire
ker; it reminds me of T
ity l
sort of Snark, and you and papa are hu
course, Sylvia ought to marry him. All the pretty girls are marrying these Anglo-Aliens. He'
with a stiff smile, and a rainbow o
ned her chair round and put up he
fire away
y, stretched out his hand for the ci
n't grow any more! He
r with a pitying sm
s than that to do I can tell you. I have two rather awful troubles. Look here. Things are
ode's colo
run on Wednesday? Do be just to me! Do I make the racing engagements? You can't pretend th
-but can't you ma
des, it's not like a dinner-party, or his wedding, or anything li
first thing we've given
f the darling prefers racing! Don't you know by this time that whenever Chetwo
e's what he's lost a
is jockeys, and his bookmakers, and even his old furnit
rything under the sun you want! Because that wo
ys I ha
, if yo
uld ho
ty murmured
him, it's a fatal mistake. We'll make it up to you later-stay with you on
irthlessly, frowned gloomily, and then said with a
replied p
, and you never get
don't you see-th
o
men of the world, and yet I think you know
said his
the sake of the argument), and she's a decent sort of girl, and at the same time the poor chap is frightfully keen on
chap, S
, Felicity! Pull yourself toge
, y
es
winced at the feminine explicitness), "and you are
at. But there are tre
e she's married. Oh, Savile! How
," said Savile, with a reassu
, dear. But who
pocket, and blushingly showed it to
face expressed the mos
.... Oh, it's some mistake, surely! Yo
Savile snatched th
n those days known as an Alexandra curl on the left shoulder. She was leaning her head on her hand, and her elbow on a vague shelf or balcony. The photograph was oval in shape, and looked as if the lady were loo
make fun of everything! I gave it you by mistake. I to
c peep-and now tell me the real person,
don't! I jus
see the
nt William, gave a short lau
square. She accepted me. Very well. This holidays, I saw some one else; what is a fellow to do? And then I went
am," said L
out she met a chap she liked better, she was quite free; (not but what I jolly well intended to pu
he
where. At
concert,
once
y been to one in your life
t in once,
s
delina
and looked out
serious. Then
nk, dear, you should
way she sings 'Comin through the Rye!' Sh
just like papa. He was ma
Savile was
Physical Culture during the holidays. What are those exercises-Swedenborgian or something-anyhow, it takes up time. Besides, I somehow feel that that (the affair with Dolly) was more a sort of boy-a
-I'm not going to think about it any more. I know ther
rha
th you!... No, I won't. I'd r
. Now, what's th
ther worried
f yours! You're always harping on
houldn
And Sylvia is very happy at home; the head of
pect ... look here. Do you think Woodvil
sat up wi
, highly-cultivated, intellectual young man? Oh no! Oh
ou call it, and all that, it's not his fault, is it? He's a good-looking chap all the same. Face facts
aughed, an
with a figure and a profile in love with the pretty daughter of a pompous politician. He te
r I've given you a hint, and I don't ask you not
I talk so much that I never have time to repeat a
with us to-morrow, as C
. I'm dining with Mrs. Ogilv
n the mirror, and said in
vernor doesn't care for that go-ahe
anelagh,-to try her new motor,
hetwode
u knew he was
f you choose, but if I were you I'd somehow get Chetwode back
ot, Sa
rather rot, quite so soon. You're too young, and so on-been married a year,
weet in every way, and not dream of drifting apart for ages
put my last shilli
s really your last shillin
downstairs, softly humming to him
lgently on the weaknesses of her husband, cheerfully on the troubles of her brother, and