Henrietta Sees It Through Read Online Free PDF Page B

jack?’ he said.
    â€˜But of course,’ said Lady B, and she turned her attention, for the first time, to the rink, where eight woods were clustered neatly round the little white jack. ‘It is your shot, Admiral dear, which is lying.’
    â€˜On the contrary, it is Colonel Simpkins’s,’ said the Admiral gloomily as he walked back to his place.
    â€˜I’m going to try very, very hard this time,’ said Lady B to me in a low voice as she prepared for her next shot. Then she took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and sent her wood rolling down the green. It trundled gently along, curved round, and came to rest an inch from the jack. Lady B turned pale and clutched my arm. ‘Henrietta! Look what I’ve done!’ she said.
    â€˜Good shot!’ yelled the Admiral.
    â€˜Oh, False Friend,’ I said bitterly, and sent down one of my usual ones.
    â€˜Twenty-five yards short,’ called Colonel Simpkins sadly.
    Lady B, uplifted and inspired, made another brilliant shot which hit the jack and her wood was marked with a cross in white chalk.

    Sent her wood rolling down the green
    â€˜I don’t think I ever felt so proud in my life,’ said Lady B, who had had triumphs in many European embassies.
    â€˜Look at all the people watching,’ I said.
    â€˜Don’t talk, please, Henrietta,’ said Lady B in a remote way. ‘I want to concentrate.’
    Lady B and the Admiral won the Bowling Tournament. I went up to see them play their finals. A large crowd had assembled to watch. Lady B demanded perfect silence before she played each shot, and even asked a croquet player on a distant lawn not to make a clicking noise with the balls. Halfway through the game she had a brandy and soda brought out to her from the bar. Just before the end, inspiration left her and she began playing in her old and, to me, more attractive style. But by that time she and the Admiral were so far ahead they couldn’t lose.
    â€˜I’m glad I’ve lost the Touch,’ she said comfortably, coming to sit beside me. ‘Being good at games takes all the fun out of them. My dear,
do
look at Mrs Whinebite’s hat.’
    Always your affectionate Childhood’s Friend,
    H ENRIETTA

 
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    July 29, 1942
    M Y D EAR R OBERT
    Mrs Savernack gave a party last week. We all brought our own food, and at the end there was a collection for the Canteen; but still, it was a party, and caused more excitement and gave more pleasure than anything that has happened here for a long time.
    Mrs Savernack had her cousin, who is a real Cabinet Minister, staying with her, and she asked us all to come in our very best clothes, because of the Cabinet Minister’s wife, who, Mrs Savernack said, is considered the Best Dressed Woman in London. You can imagine what a stir that caused but, of course, everybody was simply delighted to have the chance of wearing their very best, because there is a strong feeling down here that, unless particularly requested to do so by one’s hostess, any form of Full Fig is unpatriotic.
    Everybody rushed to get furs and feather boas out of moth-proof bags, and best frocks, which had been hanging between sheets for at least two years, were taken down and tenderly ironed.
    Two days before the party I found Lady B in the Street, breathing wistfully on the glass window of Mathilde, our dress shop. ‘You see that little black hat, Henrietta,’ she said. ‘Well, I want it for the party.’
    â€˜Are you sure?’ I said, because Lady B always used to get her hats in Paris, and has vowed more than once that nothing less distinguished shall rest upon her head until every German has been driven from the sacred soil of France.
    â€˜Perfectly sure,’ said Lady B firmly. ‘I’ve only made a mistake over a hat once in my life, and that was when I was seventeen. It was made of pale-blue chiffon and had a pinkrose under the brim. It was a terrible