The Jewelled Moth. Katherine Woodfine
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‘Well, those matches can work, you know,’ said Isabel, hastily, turning rather pink.
Veronica’s father was almost twice Isabel’s age, come to that, Veronica thought.
The Countess waved her hand, as if swatting Isabel’s words away. ‘Oh, I quite understand. There could scarcely be a finer suitor. Why, the man has everything: a title, a fine income, that beautiful estate. And such a distinguished military record! He joined the army when he was a very young man, you know,’ she added in a conspiratorial tone. ‘He never did see eye to eye with his father – a nasty, cantankerous old fellow, if you ask me.’ She paused for a moment, as if daring the others to disagree with her, but of course, no one did.
‘Was he really?’ fluttered Lady Alice.
‘He was indeed,’ confirmed the Countess. ‘But the army was the making of Beaucastle –’
Isabel interrupted suddenly, changing the subject. ‘Look – over there! Isn’t that Edward Sinclair?’
They all turned to look, even the Countess. The owner of Sinclair’s department store was something of a celebrity, even amongst London’s society set. Beautifully dressed, with his signature orchid in his buttonhole, he bowed to a distinguished customer, and then went to talk to the Head Waiter.
‘He’s rather handsome, isn’t he?’ said Isabel, looking over at him with interest.
‘Hmmm,’ said the Countess, peering through her eyeglass. ‘Too showy, if you ask me. These Americans always are. And he’s new money of course.’
Veronica saw that Isabel’s cheeks were going pink again. No one could be more ‘new money’ than Charles Whiteley, Isabel’s husband and Veronica’s father. He might now live in Mayfair and dine with the city’s most eminent families, but London society would never quite forget that he was not an aristocrat. He was an industrialist: the wealthy owner of several very lucrative mines in South Africa. Isabel, on the other hand, was from real society stock, which was exactly why Veronica’s father had married her, after Veronica’s mother died. That, and because he liked having a beautiful, expensively dressed young wife on his arm. And Isabel had married him for his wealth, and for as much shopping at Sinclair’s as even she could ever desire, thought Veronica with a shudder.
‘They say he’s quite the ladies’ man,’ Lady Alice was commenting, still watching Mr Sinclair. ‘Why, Mrs Balfour told me . . .’ She leaned forwards, and began murmuring something under her breath, whilst Phyllis craned around curiously, and even Emily looked over at Sinclair with interest. But Veronica didn’t even bother to glance in his direction. What did she care for some ridiculous American shopkeeper? She was simply grateful for the distraction, which allowed the waiter to take her plate away without anyone noticing that she hadn’t taken a single bite more.
There is no more pleasant entertainment than an excursion out of town. The absence of all ceremony and formality is certain to be conducive to a delightful gaiety of spirit. Yet whilst relishing the novelty and freedom of an excursion, a young lady in society must at all times guard against rowdiness and unseemly behaviour, just as she might in the confines of the most fashionable drawing room.
Lady Diana DeVere’s Etiquette for Debutantes: a Guide to the Manners, Mores and Morals of Good Society, Chapter 17: Excursions & Amusements – On Picnics – On Field Sports – Boating – Cycling – On the Conveyance of Guests and of Provisions – Things Not to be Forgotten – Tea
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