The Edwardians Read Online Free PDF Page B

the leg. Then her mother would rise, and, standing in her chemise, would allow the maid to fit the long stays of pink coutil, heavily boned, round her hips and slender figure, fastening the busk down the front, after many adjustments; then the suspenders would be clipped to the stockings; then the lacing would follow, beginning at the waist and travelling gradually up and down, until the necessary proportions had been achieved. The silk laces and their tags would fly out, under the maid’s deft fingers, with the flick of a skilled worker mending a net. Then the pads of pink satin would be brought, and fastened into place on the hips and under the arms, still further to accentuate the smallness of the waist. Then the drawers; and then the petticoat would be spread into a ring on the floor, and Lucy would step into it on her high-heeled shoes, allowing Button to draw it up and tie the tapes. Then Button would throw the dressing gown round her shoulders again—Viola had followed the process well, for here the door opened, and the duchess emerged. “Well, have you done that table? Read it out. Louder. I can’t hear. Yes, that’s better. I’m sorry, Sebastian, you’ll have to take in old Octavia Hull again. Nonsense, she’s very amusing when she’s not too fuddled with drugs. She’ll be all right tonight because she’ll be afraid of losing too much money to Sir Adam after dinner. Now, Wacey, off you go and rearrange the cards on the table. And you too, Viola. There are too many people in this room. Oh, all right, you can stop till I’m dressed if you like. Button, I’m ready for my dress. Now be careful. Don’t catch the hooks in my hair, Sebastian, you must turn round while I take off my dressing gown. Now, Button.”
    Button, gathering up the lovely mass of taffeta and tulle, held the bodice open while the Duchess flung off her wrap and dived gingerly into the billows of her dress. Viola watched enraptured the sudden gleam of her mother’s white arms and shoulders. Button breathed a sigh of relief as she began doing up the innumerable hooks at the back. But Lucy could not stand still for a moment, and strayed all over the room with Button in pursuit, hooking. “Haven’t you finished
yet,
Button? Nonsense, it isn’t tight. You’ll say next that I’m getting fat.” Lucy was proud of her waist, which indeed was tiny, and had changed since her girlish days only from eighteen to twenty inches. “Only when your Grace stoops,” said Button apologetically, for Lucy at the moment was bending forward and peering into her mirror as she puffed the roll of her hair into a rounder shape.
“There
,
then,” said the Duchess, straightening herself, but reaching down stiffly for the largest of her rubies, which she tried first against her shoulder, but finally pinned into a knot at her waist. Then she encircled her throat with the high dog-collar of rubies and diamonds, tied with a large bow of white tulle at the back. “You must choose a wife who will do credit to the jewels, Sebastian,” she said as she slipped an earring into its place, “because, of course, the day will come when your poor old mother has to give up everything to her daughter-in-law, and we shan’t like that—eh, Button?”—for she was in a better humour now, again completely adorned and clothed—”but we’ll put up with it for the joy of seeing a bride brought to Chevron—eh, Button? eh, Wacey? oh, no, of course Wacey has gone to do the table—and you and I, Button, will retire to the Dower House and live humbly for the rest of our lives, and perhaps his Grace will ask us to the garden-party—eh, Sebastian, you rogue?—will you, if your wife allows it?” Lucy was herself again, adjusting her frock, clasping her bracelets, dusting her throat with powder—for she was one of those who used powder, to the disapproval