that came from it, of: “Girls! Did you ever? She really is!—with Still Waters! Well! What ever next?” [47] [47] CHAPTER V THE FIRST LUNCH TOGETHER THE FIRST LUNCH TOGETHER “To the Carlton,” ordered Mr. Waters; and off we drove. I hadn’t been inside the Carlton since the days before the “smash”—the days when I was a young lady of leisure, without an idea that I should presently be toiling in the grimy typists’ room at the Near Oriental from nine o’clock until six, wearing home-made delaine shirts, and trembling lest I might lose my hard-earned twenty-five shillings a week! The last time I’d been taken there to tea, after a matinée, by my brother Jack and Sydney Vandeleur, who had ordered roses of a very special pink to match the frock I’d worn then, and had sent a message to the band to play my favourite waltzes. Yes, as Jack said, Sydney would do anything for me, always. I expect Jack thought that the hundred pounds which saved his name came, as he suggested, from the Vandeleurs. Well, I couldn’t possibly “give[48] away” the truth about the anomalous position his sister accepted in order to earn the money! [48] Thank goodness, the Vandeleurs were at the other end of the world, and wouldn’t be home for a year, thought I. By then my time would be up, and they needn’t know of my make-believe “engagement”—except that it was “broken off”! “I telephoned for a table,” said Mr. Waters, as we left the ordinary work-a-day world of hurrying people and crowded, petrol-breathing motor-buses in the Haymarket, and entered the restaurant—warm, perfumed, bright with dainty clothes and pretty faces that smiled above the little tables. Ours was in a delightfully cosy corner, next to an empty table reserved for three persons. The decorations were of pink hothouse roses, almost the same as Sydney’s! How very different from that marble-topped table in the crowded “Den of Lyons” above which
Prev.
Back
Top