Free Rustication by Charles Palliser Page B

talking about the ball: What she was going to wear. What her sister was going to wear. Then she inquired: Are you coming, Mr Shenstone? You and your sister? She giggled and placed her hand over her mouth in a theatrical manner.
    She must know that her mother has refused Effie tickets. I can see her merry face now and I’m sure the little shrew was teasing me. Then she demanded: Who do you intend to dance with? Mrs Paytress?
    Enid said: Don’t be a goose. You know very well that that woman is not going to be there .
    Guinevere turned to her chaperone: Is she also on Mama’s blacklist, Miss Bittlestone?
    ( Also ? So we Shenstones are on the list?)
    The old woman stood in confusion.
    Guinevere addressed me: It’s the earl’s ball and is to be opened by his nephew, Mr Davenant Burgoyne, and there is a great deal of speculation about which young lady he intends to dance with .
    At this Enid looked conscious. Is it true? Are she and that boor destined to marry?
    He’s fearfully handsome , Guinevere said. Isn’t he, Enid? Her sister blushed obediently. And very tall. How tall are you, Mr Shenstone?
    Oh, my dear girl, what an indelicate question , Miss Bittlestone muttered. Whatever next?
    Guinevere giggled.
    I told her my height and she said: Mr Davenant Burgoyne has the advantage of you by a good three inches .
    I instantly thought of the tall man I had encountered on Tuesday.
    A moment later Guinevere started talking about her mother’s criteria for selling tickets: No governesses, Mama says .
    Enid nodded and said: Only ladies .
    Guinevere frowned as if genuinely puzzled: What is your view, Miss Bittlestone? Can a woman be paid money and still be a lady? Mama says not .
    I would not dream of dissenting from your mother’s view. A lady is one who behaves as a lady should .
    Guinevere screwed her pretty face into the expression of one troubled by a philosophical issue and asked: Can an unmarried girl go about on her own and still be counted a lady, Miss Bittlestone?
    Well , the old lady said doubtfully. That depends .
    Suppose the girl were seen coming out of her friend’s lodgings at ten in the evening , Guinevere went on. And the lodgings were in, say for example, Hill Street in town where I believe a number of young unmarried gentlemen lodge . . .
    What! the old woman shrieked. You’re not talking about a single man’s lodgings?
    Yes, Miss Bittlestone , Guinevere said with an expression of irreproachable innocence.
    My dear child! No woman’s character could survive such an episode .
    By now the old woman was clucking like a broody hen and urging her charges to walk forward. So we parted and I strolled on. That little chit, Guinevere, is a strange mixture of coquetry and caprice. She bids fair to becoming an outrageous flirt.
    Then in the distance I saw two figures—a man and a woman. The man was very tall. And the woman, I realised as I drew nearer, was my sister. I could see that they were walking arm in arm and seemed to be laughing. At moments their heads seemed to come close together and stay there for a moment.
    I could not get any closer because it was impossible to cross the open fields without being seen. And then, before I could approach them by a more circuitous route, the falling dusk hid them from my sight.
    As ever, Euphemia thinks nothing of bringing dishonour on the family. She has never shown respect for the feelings of anyone else. Father allowed her to do what she chose. He beat me for minor offences and smiled at her for much more serious ones. But I suppose she doesn’t realise what she is doing. A girl brought up in the cossetted, protected way that Euphemia was, knows nothing. If she had seen and heard what I’ve seen and heard at Cambridge she would understand the danger she is in.
    7 o’clock.
    Odd thing a couple of hours ago. I went into the kitchen to find Betsy and saw Mrs Yass laying out some herbs on the table. I asked her what they were and she said: Tansy and pennyroyal . I said I