come by the same train and we all drove to the house together. They
were having tea on the croquet lawn--Lady Westaway and some other
people, and the eldest son's wife. You remember what a fuss there was
when he married, how Lady Westaway had hysterics for three days. Well,
she looks as if she could have them again any moment.

[Sidenote: _An Attractive Woman_]

Mrs. Westaway is awfully pretty. She was lying in a swing chair,
showing lots of petticoat and ankle. The ankle isn't bad, but the
petticoat had common lace on it. She has huge turquoise earrings, and
very stick-out hair arranged to look untidy with tongs. She smiles all
the time, and wears lots of different colours. She calls every one by
their Christian name, and always catches hold of the men's coats, or
fixes their buttonholes or ties, or holds their arms and whispers: and
every one is in love with her, and she has the greatest success. So I
can't think, Mamma, why you have always told me never to do any of
these things, when you want me to be a success so much. Her voice is
dreadfully shrill, and such an odd pronunciation, but no one seems to
mind that. I rather like her, she is so jolly but some of the women of
the party won't speak to her, except to say disagreeable things. Jane
Roose is here, she has been here since she left Nazeby (Violet is at
the sea), and she came up to my room as we were going to dress, and I
have only just got rid of her. She told me Mrs. Westaway was a
"dreadful creature," and that no one would know her, if it was not for
her mother-in-law receiving her, so they can't help it. And she could
not understand what the men saw to admire in a low person like that.
But I can see very well, Mamma, she is as pretty as can be, and
probably the men don't notice about the lace being common, and all the
colours, and those things. I must go down to dinner now, so good-bye,