The Countess was rather voluble to Grand’mere on the subject. A friendship had grown up between them and this seemed to include me. They were together a great deal discussing Julia’s requirements and as the Countess agreed that Grand’mere could produce gowns which were more striking, and at the same time elegant, than any dressmaker she knew, there was an immediate rapport between them.
She said she would like to ”bring me out.” She thought I had more “originality” than Julia. Julia was too eager. “Trying too hard,” she called it, “and showing it.” “It’s a social sin to show one’s eagerness,” she explained. “One must not miss an opportunity, of course, one must be alert, but assume indifference. It is not easy to achieve the right attitude but it is the way to success.” And she thought I would do this better than Julia.
During our conversations she became very frank about her self and she had a racy turn of expression which was not exactly what one would have expected from a Countess.
“I was not born to the purple,” she said, when she was in a confidential mood. “Plain Dulcie Dorman me. I had a way with me which the men seemed to like … particularly the old men. There are some who attract the young, some the middle-aged, but for me it was the old ones. I was on the stage. It was the only thing for a girl like me … good looking with her wits about her. The Earl saw me. He was quite a duck really … a bit doddering … all of thirty-five years older than I was. But he doted on me … and if mere was one thing I liked it was being doted on. So I married him… and for five years I looked after him. Quite fond of him, I was … and there was I, the Countess, living with my old Earl in a house nearly as big as Paddington Station and as draughty. It wasn’t exactly comfort, but I liked being a lady. Then he died and what was there for me? Debts … debts … debts and a distant cousin turning up to take the house. As for me, I was pretty nearly on my uppers … but not quite, so I looked about to see what I could do. I was at least the Countess of Ballader and that was a good deal. So I took up this business of looking after girls. I soon learned about it and I’d had some good clients. And here I am. I’Ve had my ups and downs…and I’m glad of it. I’ve been plain Dulcie Dorman who could high kick with the best… and I’ve been the Earl’s lady. I’ve seen life from both sides, you might say. That’s a help. It makes you understand people’s troubles. One thing I’ve learned is don’t judge or blame … because you can only get half the story, anyway. Take Sir Francis.” She smiled at us benignly. “I liked him. I knew how things were. It’s lucky it worked out fairly well. If he had died in the lady’s bed, the fat would have been in the fire. Julia’s presentation would have had to be postponed. Of course there haven’t been the rigid conventions at Court since Albert died. He was responsible for that strict moral tone; he liked to visit the sins of the fathers on the children. Her Majesty is not really so strict. But if he had died in his mistress’s bed, how should we have been able to keep the press away from such a spicy piece of news. Yes, that would have put a finish to Julia’s debut.”
“This relationship,” said Grand’mere, “is it of long standing?”
”Oh years and years. It’s been a steady affair. There’s nothing promiscuous about Sir Francis. Poor Mrs. Darcy, she is very upset.”
We were to extend our stay on account of Sir Francis’s illness and we should be in London for at least another week. In one of our nightly chats, Grand’mere talked to me about Sir Francis.
“As the Countess says, one must not blame him,” she said. “He is a good man. He loved Mrs. Darcy and she him. It was like a marriage.”
“But what of Lady Sallonger?”
“Lady Sallonger is married to her ailments. You see how it is. After Cassie’s birth she wanted no more children. There are needs in a man’s life … and if he cannot have them where he expects to, he looks elsewhere.” “So Sir Francis looked to Mrs. Darcy?” “That would seem so,” she said. “He must not be blamed. He looks after Lady Sallonger. All her whims are granted. There was no unkindness … and unkindness is the real sin.” There flashed into my mind the memory of Charles running up the steps and looking back at me in the frightening darkness; I thought of the boys who had killed Willie’s dog. She was right. Unkindness was the real sin.
* * *
Charles was in the house but I had lost my fear of him. He treated me when we met in that cool manner which indicated that he had no interest in me and no longer felt rancour. It was different with Philip. He was pleased to see me.
The two brothers spent a great deal of time with their father, who, although confined to his bed, where he would be for at least a month, was well enough to receive visitors; and as he was anxious to talk to his sons, the doctor came to the conclusion that to try to prevent that would have distressed Sir Francis too much.
I gathered there was a great deal to talk about.
Grand’mere said mat decisions were being made. Philip was very serious, but he was especially charming to me. When i came down to breakfast one morning he was there alone. His face lit up when he saw me.
He said: “I’m so glad you are here, Lenore. So much is happening really.”
“You mean because of your father?”
He nodded. Then he gave me that very pleasant smile of his. “I always like talking to you. You always seem to understand. This is going to make a great difference. Both Charles and I have done with education from now on. Well, it’s about time. It is really what I wanted and I have been urging my father to allow it for some time. Charles and I are going into the business at once.”
“Yes, I rather thought that would be so.”
”Our father is recovering but he will never be the same again. The doctor says he will have to take great care. This is a warning. So from now on we are in the business. Of course I didn’t want it to happen this way. However, I want to talk to you some time.” He looked round. “It’s not easy here. Perhaps we could go somewhere.”
“Where?” I asked.
“We could go down to Greenwich. I love the river. There is an inn there I know—the Crown and Sceptre. They say the whitebait there are the best in London.” He grimaced. “I’d like us to go alone. But I suppose that is out of the question.”
I did not answer.
“We’ll have to have a chaperone,” he went on, “or it would he considered improper.”
“Well then, if you want to talk we might as well do it here.”
“We’ll take your grandmother along. She’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“That would be lovely.”
Julia came down.
“Hello,” said Philip. “Getting ready for the fray?”
Julia helped herself from the sideboard. “The Countess is quite a dragon,” she said. “I get little peace.”
“All in a good cause,” said Philip lightly.
“You’re lucky,” said Julia, glancing at me. “You don’t have to suffer like this. I shall never get my weight down and those corsets are killing me.”
“I shouldn’t eat all that bacon then if I were you,” Philip advised.
“I have to keep my strength up. I think that lavender coloured brocade your grandmother has bought is lovely.”
“It’s beautiful,” I agreed, “and have you seen the style it’s going to be made in?”
“Oh no. They don’t think it is necessary to consult me. Your grandmother and the Countess are like a couple of old witches doing this and that… and never letting me know a thing.”
“I’m sure my grandmother would show you all the patterns if you wished to see them.”
“Sometimes I’m sick of the whole thing, and I want to go home. Then there will be all the balls and things …”
“You’ll love them,” I said. “You know it is what you have always wanted.”