fulminating look. “I’m sure it will refresh us wonderfully for the remainder of our journey.’’
“I am not in the least in need of refreshment,” Sydney told her.
“Oh, do let us stop!” begged Susan, who had been looking out the other window. “We have only had to sit here comfortably, while poor Mr. Maitland has been driving himself all this way!’’
This silenced Sydney effectively, although when shortly they had been handed down from the carriage by the same Mr. Maitland, he did not look especially fatigued. Indeed, there was a distinct glow on his face, which made Sydney realize with a pang of guilt that he had been deprived of all his usual amusements for the last several weeks, all for her benefit, and was surely looking forward to resuming them.
It was for this reason that she endured quietly Lady Romney’s keen scrutiny of her young guest’s attire, bearing, and general deportment while they took their tea together. In these Vanessa was, unsuspected by Sydney, disturbingly impressed, which prompted her to be at her most ingratiating. Cedric regarded this as ominous, but since Prudence basked in it and Sydney was temporarily docile, he made no remark that might agitate these placid waters.
The tea party broke up on a cordial, even warm, note and the travelers continued on their way refreshed. As they neared the metropolis and houses became more common than trees, Sydney forgot Lady Romney in her fascination with the changing scene. They bowled through Kensington village and past the Palace there; then Knightsbridge was by, and presently they were obliged to slow their pace as they approached Hyde Park Corner, where traffic was suddenly much thicker. Sydney had barely a glimpse of what she supposed must be the Duke of Wellington’s residence at Number One Piccadilly before the carriage turned north, and then turned again into a quiet street that gave shortly onto Grosvenor Square.
‘‘Well, here we are at last!’’ Prudence exclaimed with satisfaction as she was being handed down from the carriage. They had been expected, and what looked to Sydney to be an army of footmen descended immediately to assist them. While Mrs. Whitlatch bustled about, Sydney and Susan had opportunity for a quick look around them—at the green, iron-fenced square, of which the Marquess’s brick-fronted town house occupied a large portion of the south side, and in which white-capped nursemaids kept an eye on their charges who pressed against the railing to admire a dashing high-perched phaetons that passed in the roadway—before they were all shown ceremoniously inside.
The next few days flew by as Sydney attempted to adjust to her new situation. As a country-bred girl, she was at a disadvantage even to Susan, who had for years called London her home. It overwhelmed Sydney, who was unused to so many people and so little open space—and so much noise!
But she also discovered very quickly that she liked it. There was so much to see! Even on the short drive from Knightsbridge to Grosvenor Square, Sydney had observed dozens of shops, rows of tall elegant houses with modern gas lamps in front of them, and innumerable persons, from flower sellers and dairymaids to wagoners and exquisite gentlemen in high starched collars and with chains on their waistcoats, strolling along the broad flagged pavement.
And there was so much to do! On the very day of their arrival, Prudence—recalling a word whispered in her ear by Lady Romney—took Sydney and Susan off to visit the dressmaker in Henrietta Street, where much was made of Miss Archer’s striking colouring, and even more of her connection with the nobility. Cedric came to dinner that evening, and invited all the ladies to drive in the Park with him the next day. This did not sound an overly interesting activity to Sydney, who hinted broadly that she would prefer to spend a few hours in Hatchard’s famous literary emporium, replenishing her library, and perhaps discover
“I am not in the least in need of refreshment,” Sydney told her.
“Oh, do let us stop!” begged Susan, who had been looking out the other window. “We have only had to sit here comfortably, while poor Mr. Maitland has been driving himself all this way!’’
This silenced Sydney effectively, although when shortly they had been handed down from the carriage by the same Mr. Maitland, he did not look especially fatigued. Indeed, there was a distinct glow on his face, which made Sydney realize with a pang of guilt that he had been deprived of all his usual amusements for the last several weeks, all for her benefit, and was surely looking forward to resuming them.
It was for this reason that she endured quietly Lady Romney’s keen scrutiny of her young guest’s attire, bearing, and general deportment while they took their tea together. In these Vanessa was, unsuspected by Sydney, disturbingly impressed, which prompted her to be at her most ingratiating. Cedric regarded this as ominous, but since Prudence basked in it and Sydney was temporarily docile, he made no remark that might agitate these placid waters.
The tea party broke up on a cordial, even warm, note and the travelers continued on their way refreshed. As they neared the metropolis and houses became more common than trees, Sydney forgot Lady Romney in her fascination with the changing scene. They bowled through Kensington village and past the Palace there; then Knightsbridge was by, and presently they were obliged to slow their pace as they approached Hyde Park Corner, where traffic was suddenly much thicker. Sydney had barely a glimpse of what she supposed must be the Duke of Wellington’s residence at Number One Piccadilly before the carriage turned north, and then turned again into a quiet street that gave shortly onto Grosvenor Square.
‘‘Well, here we are at last!’’ Prudence exclaimed with satisfaction as she was being handed down from the carriage. They had been expected, and what looked to Sydney to be an army of footmen descended immediately to assist them. While Mrs. Whitlatch bustled about, Sydney and Susan had opportunity for a quick look around them—at the green, iron-fenced square, of which the Marquess’s brick-fronted town house occupied a large portion of the south side, and in which white-capped nursemaids kept an eye on their charges who pressed against the railing to admire a dashing high-perched phaetons that passed in the roadway—before they were all shown ceremoniously inside.
The next few days flew by as Sydney attempted to adjust to her new situation. As a country-bred girl, she was at a disadvantage even to Susan, who had for years called London her home. It overwhelmed Sydney, who was unused to so many people and so little open space—and so much noise!
But she also discovered very quickly that she liked it. There was so much to see! Even on the short drive from Knightsbridge to Grosvenor Square, Sydney had observed dozens of shops, rows of tall elegant houses with modern gas lamps in front of them, and innumerable persons, from flower sellers and dairymaids to wagoners and exquisite gentlemen in high starched collars and with chains on their waistcoats, strolling along the broad flagged pavement.
And there was so much to do! On the very day of their arrival, Prudence—recalling a word whispered in her ear by Lady Romney—took Sydney and Susan off to visit the dressmaker in Henrietta Street, where much was made of Miss Archer’s striking colouring, and even more of her connection with the nobility. Cedric came to dinner that evening, and invited all the ladies to drive in the Park with him the next day. This did not sound an overly interesting activity to Sydney, who hinted broadly that she would prefer to spend a few hours in Hatchard’s famous literary emporium, replenishing her library, and perhaps discover
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