Kitty Read Online Free PDF

nonsense.”
    Poor Kitty! To have to stand naked in front of a supercilious French maid and endure the touch of her long, cold fingers, seemed humiliation indeed.
    First her silk chemise was put on. Then the silk stockings were smoothed over her legs and clipped to the long, heavily-boned stays. Colette pulled the lacings round the waist with what seemed unnecessary savagery and then fastened pads on the hips and bust to achieve the hourglass effect. Then her drawers were hauled on, then her petticoat, and then the ball gown.
    The ball gown was of simple white taffeta sweeping to a small train at the back and was cut lower on the bosom than most debutante dresses. But Lady Henley had crudely pointed out that if you wanted to sell the goods, you had to present them to their best advantage.
    Her hair was piled up on her head over more pads and dressed with artificial flowers. A long fan with fringes was put in her hand, a string of pearls placed around her neck, and Kitty was ready to meet her new social contemporaries for the first time.
    Lady Henley and her mother rose and stared at Kitty as she shyly entered the drawing room. Mrs. Harrison’s eyes filled with sentimental tears. “Why, you look really pretty.”
    Lady Henley snorted and walked slowly around the girl, looking her up and down. “Not bad. Not bad at all,” she commented finally. “But you need a bit of animation. Pour her a glass of sherry, Euphemia.”
    Mrs. Harrison moved stiffly across the room in all the glory of shot taffeta, a tremendous bustle and a new diamond necklace that she kept fingering nervously to make sure it was still there.
    Lady Henley was encased in a purple silk dress of an old-fashioned cut showing a great deal of mottled bosom. A collar of large and dirty diamonds was clasped round the rolls of fat on her neck.
    All three sat bolt upright with their drinks, restricted by their heavy stays. The drawing room, like the rest of the mansion in Park Lane, was light, charming, and characterless. Lady Henley had employed the services of an expert decorator and then imposed none of her heavy personality on the furnishings, unless you could count the trails of pastry crumbs that she left in her wake.
    “Now remember, Kitty,” she said. “We’re going to a lot of expense to get you suitably married, so don’t let us down.”
    “What about love. No one has mentioned love,” said Kitty softly.
    “Love! Pah!” said Lady Henley. “Love has no place in a high-society marriage. Have your fun afterwards if you want. There’ll be plenty of chaps ready to oblige.”
    Kitty blushed and bit her lip. A conversation such as this could never have taken place in a middle-class drawing room.
    Mrs. Harrison felt a strange pang of maternal anxiety. If only Kitty had some more spirit. She had a sudden wish that her biddable daughter would tell Lady Henley to go to hell. Then she stiffened her resolve. Such thoughts were mawkish. Once Kitty was married to Lord Peter Chesworth, she would be in the company of other young married women and then she would find that most of them had settled for money or a title. Romance was for novelists and shopkeepers.
    “Isn’t it time we left?” said Kitty looking at the clock. It was ten-thirty.
    “We’re going to make an entrance,” said Lady Henley. “Make sure all the fellows get a good look at you.”
    Kitty’s heart sank. She forced down her sherry and “felt light-headed and slightly sick. Finally, Lady Henley rang for the carriage and they made their way out into the April night. They bowled briskly along the London streets which seemed to be alive with all sorts of jolly, unfashionable people having a good time. The air was heavy with the scent of lilacs and lime. A young couple stood at a crossing, gazing into each other’s eyes. Kitty looked away.
    The ball was held at a mansion in Kensington. The hostess was a Mrs. Brotherton, a wealthy woman who had outlived her husband; it was an age when society