In Distant Fields Read Online Free PDF Page B

ordinary as pouring hot water from the samovar into her large ornate silver teapot, because it made Kitty feel at home in the grand house, although the guests had not the same sort of refreshment as she and her mother in South Kensington, where a thin slice of bread and butter was the order of the day. Here, Queen Alexandra sandwiches and small French gateaux were being presented to everyone by the footmen.
    Kitty was put even more at ease when, having been presented to the Duchess, she found herself being lightly kissed on the cheek by her hostess, who then proceeded to walk her round the assembled company.
    â€˜Julia?’ the Duchess enquired of one of her friends. ‘May I present Miss Rolfe. Miss Rolfe – Mrs Wynyard Errol.’
    Kitty curtsied, carrying her curtsy off so delightfully that both the Duchess and Mrs Wynyard Errol beamed approval.
    â€˜Delightful,’ Mrs Wynyard Errol said, turning to the Duchess and lowering her voice. ‘She isjust as delightful as you said, Circe. One always fears the worst when it comes to gels one’s children might meet at a school.’
    The Duchess smiled and the two friends’ eyes met in a vaguely conspiratorial manner. They both knew that really the Duchess could not have cared if Miss Katherine Rolfe looked and behaved like an organ grinder’s monkey, since it was thanks entirely to Partita’s refusal to study at Bauders with governesses that her mother was now able to live in London during the term time, enjoying the kind of intellectual and artistic company in which she revelled.
    â€˜I do most sincerely hope that is not for me,’ Mrs Wynyard Errol murmured, noticing the butler approaching her with a telegram on a tray. ‘Although I fear it might well be,’ she added.
    â€˜For whom is that telegram, Wavell?’ the Duchess asked.
    â€˜It is for Mr Wynyard Errol, Your Grace,’ the butler replied. ‘Newly arrived.’
    â€˜Like us.’ Mrs Wynyard Errol sighed, glancing at her husband, who was now opening the proffered telegram.
    â€˜Why is it that telegrams so very rarely contain good news?’ the Duchess wondered out aloud to no one at all.
    The ladies formed an anxious little circle around Ralph Wynyard Errol, a tall, good-looking man, a theatrical manager, as Kitty soon learned, with a particularly mellifluous voice that, according to gossip, he used to great effecton the ladies, most especially those of the chorus.
    â€˜Oh dear,’ he sighed, folding the cable up and addressing his wife. ‘It seems my dear mamma has had a relapse. This is from her doctor. He advises I return at once.’
    â€˜How sad for you,’ the Duchess offered. ‘And how sad for your poor mother too.’
    â€˜I have to go, of course, Circe,’ Ralph replied. ‘You know how it is.’
    â€˜Indeed. Such a shame, with the festivities about to get under way. Wavell? Please be good enough to inform Mr Wynyard Errol’s valet that Mr Wynyard Errol is leaving for London.’
    â€˜Yes, Your Grace.’
    â€˜And, Wavell? Be sure to tell Cook to prepare a picnic for his journey – something warming to counter this inclement weather.’
    â€˜Yes, Your Grace.’
    As Ralph Wynyard Errol took leave of his hostess and his wife, Kitty marvelled at his behaviour, his impeccable style and manners. Mr Wynyard Errol made no fuss nor showed any undue emotion, nor indeed the disappointment he must surely be feeling at being forced to return to London and miss much of the festivity at Bauders.
    â€˜When Valentine arrives will you tell him that Grandma is not at all the thing, lovie?’
    â€˜Of course, Ralph dearest,’ Julia replied. ‘We shall all miss you quite dreadfully. It is all too dreadfully disappointing, and at this time of year too, it really is all so dreadful.’
    Ralph took one of his wife’s hands and squeezed it gently, and so, so lovingly, before turning on his