The Bohemian Girl by Frances Vernon Page B

either at dinner or afterwards. Both were extremely popular, and considered to be a rather good joke. When they left the dining-room and went upstairs with the other ladies, Maud and Diana were astonished to see Edward lean forward and begin to speak as the door closed behind them. His voice lacked its usual languor, and he was obviously being listened to by the other men.
    Half an hour later, the gentlemen returned to them; and the Blentham girls were delighted yet embarrassed when Kitty changed the tone of the whole evening. She climbed up on one of the finest Queen Anne chairs in the drawing-room and gave a raucous imitation of May Yohé; who, she said, had no right to have taken the London stage by storm.
    ‘No voice, no figure, and a nasty little face, gentlemen! Now, listen to this!’ she said, grinning, and half the party gathered round her. She winked at her sisters-in-law, who were sitting close together by the door.
    Maud and Diana, who had been allowed to see only Shakespeare at the theatre, had heard from other girls that the new American actress was able to sing only four notes. Kitty, with her hands on her hips and her butter-coloured throat raised to the gas-lights so that the good paste jewels glittered in her hair, sang a whole song on two.
    ‘Maud, how did Mr Cornwallis persuade Mamma to let us come?’ said Diana.
    ‘You know how clever he is with her. It is – rather exciting, isn’t it? Though I see what our mother means about Kitty.’
    ‘Yes – just as he said – far more exciting than Cambridge,’ murmured Diana, as everyone clapped and Kitty jumped down, trailing black lace which looked very well against the men’s plain black and white. ‘Maud, you won’t tell Mamma about this?’
    ‘I?’ Maud turned to her, looking like a brilliant, beautiful girl. ‘Do you really think I will?’
    At that moment, Cornwallis came up and sat down beside Maud. ‘I think we may enjoy a few more civilised recitals before the night is over,’ he said. ‘But I so like to entertain originals of every kind. You weren’t offended, Miss Maud?’
    Diana sat still, smiling at him, remembering the half-hours of his time Cornwallis had given her since January, discussing books with her instead of trying to draw morals from them as Angelina did. He was as kind as he was deceitful and mischievous.
    The men round Kitty were dispersing, and she herself retired to a corner with two of them. One man, Diana saw, was making his way in her direction. He was big, blond, clean-shaven and young, a boy whose name she had forgotten, who looked more like a sailor than a literary man.
    ‘Miss Blentham, may I join you?’
    ‘Yes, certainly …’ He was rather handsome, she thought, in spite of his snub nose: firm-jawed and clear-complexioned, with light round grey eyes set beneath unusually thick and pale eyebrows.
    ‘I think you’ve forgotten my name,’ he said, seeing the anxious look on her face. ‘We were introduced, actually. Julian Fitzclare – v-very much at your service, as they used to say!’
    ‘Oh, you’re Mrs Cornwallis’s brother – she told me – Captain Fitzclare, of the Blues!’ she said.
    ‘Yes, of the Blues,’ he agreed.
    They were quiet for a while, looking down at their laps, andshiftily moving their feet. ‘This is a good party, ain’t it?’ he said. ‘It’s unusual.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Diana, looking at the one man who was not in evening dress but in a ruby velvet coat. She was not used to feeling shy, and she had felt shy ever since the Blentham carriage dropped them at the door. ‘I suppose it’s Bohemia.’ She smiled.
    ‘Yes – at l-least so I’m told by – c-crusty old ladies,’ he said, smiling at her dark-red eyes. ‘Actually, my sister tells me you’re a p-poetess – may make an awfully good poet. She admires you.’
    ‘Oh,’ said Diana. ‘You do make me feel rather a fool, Captain Fitzclare.’ She wondered just how old he was: twenty-five or -six.
    He sat