Free Mrs. Tim of the Regiment by D. E. Stevenson

my emotions, but I realise that I had better keep them to myself especially as Fireguard has won and I am twenty pounds to the good.
    Rush upstairs to change my shoes which are so heavy with mud that I can hardly walk, and find Tim struggling out of his riding boots. He is flushed with triumph and asks me where I was and whether I saw him at the last fence. Reply ecstatically that I did, and that he is a clever old thing and the best rider in Midshire. Tim says he thinks he showed them a thing or two. Reply suitably. Tim says, ‘It is fun, isn’t it, Hester?’ Reply in the affirmative, but am inwardly feeling somewhat jaded. So wearing to have to be clever all the time.
    Show Tim my winnings at which he says, ‘Good God, Hester! What on earth were you thinking of ? Supposing I hadn’t won?’ Reply that I knew he was going to win which cuts the ground from under his feet.
    All the people from the point-to-point seem to be having tea at Charters Towers. Fearful squash in the dining room. Smuts sees me from afar and brings me a cup of tea and a tomato sandwich. Major M. also making his way through the crowd with tea for me but arrives too late. Seems rather annoyed about it, but it is not my fault.
    Am told that there is to be a dance after dinner and that Mrs. Winthrop has wired to York for two violins and a pianist. Everyone seems to think this quite commonplace behaviour. Major M. is sent off to the telephone with a list of people to ask. He looks rather sulky over it, but has no option as everyone does what Mrs. Winthrop says.
    Sit down beside Sir Abraham who remarks, ‘You women are never satisfied. Why can’t you be content to sit down with a paper in the evening? This world would be a nice quiet place to live in, if it were not for you women.’
    Reply defensively that it is no use to blame women for being women. We were born that way and can’t help it any more than a mosquito can help being born a mosquito and addicted to its annoying habits of biting people and giving them malaria. It is merely doing what it was born to do.
    Sir Abraham opines that mosquitoes enjoy biting people, just as women enjoy bustling round and upsetting everyone’s comfort.
    Feel it is time to carry the war into the enemy’s territory and point out to Sir Abraham that men are always down on women and yet they expect women to do the most marvellous things such as invisible patches and darns. They also expect them to be able to make a chicken soufflé out of the remains of yesterday’s rabbit, and to make short ends not only meet, but tie in a fashionable bow. Sir Abraham roars with laughter and says he would like to see Freda (his daughter) trying to make a chicken soufflé, as long as he had not got to eat it afterwards, but adds that she is pretty useful at tying her income into knots.
    Conversation cut short by dressing gong.
    I decide to wear my silver, which Tim doesn’t like. Haven’t I brought my black? he says I know he always likes my black.
    Reply that my black is four years old.
    Tim says how old do I think his tail coat is?
    Reply facetiously that I really can’t be expected to know as I am only thirty-two years old myself.
    Tim says this place is spoiling me, and it’s a good thing we are going home tomorrow.
    Dance is a great success. Tim and I cause quite a sensation by dancing together several times. Also dance with Major M. and with Smuts and Captain Winthrop. Sir Abraham asks me to sit out a dance with him, and takes me into his library where he insists on giving me a glass of port.
    My next dance is with Commander Grey, but he is nowhere to be seen. Stand about at the door talking to Lady Morley and trying to look animated. Tim comes up to me and says (holding out his watch) do I realise it is now Sunday morning, and am I going to bed as I look absolutely All In. Realise that I must look frightfully plain for Tim to notice it and agree hurriedly to go to