by Three Graces
Euphie swallowed and looked around her nervously. No one seemed to be paying her the least attention; all of them were engaged with one another, talking of things she knew nothing about. She looked at the floor and tried to pretend that she was part of a threesome on her left.
A striking blond girl came through an archway and joined Charlotte and her friend. Her rather hard blue eyes swept over the group, stopping briefly at Euphie, and she turned to ask Miss Warrington a question. Charlotte answered, and the blond girl looked surprised. Pulling peremptorily at Charlotte’s sleeve, she strode over.
“This is Miss Euphrosyne Hartington,” said Charlotte then, with poor grace. “Miss Hartington, Lady Agnes Crewe.”
“How do you do?” said Euphie. Charlotte lost no time in slipping away again.
Lady Agnes did not answer. She merely stared at Euphie in a very disconcerting way.
“Is… is something wrong?” asked Euphie finally.
“Have you a sister who is a schoolteacher?” replied the other.
Surprised, Euphie smiled. “Yes. Do you know her?” She was delighted at the notion that she might have found a friend of Thalia’s.
Lady Agnes gave a hard little laugh. “Know her!” And without another word she turned away to whisper to Charlotte.
“Come with me,” murmured someone. Euphie turned to find the shy girl she had been watching earlier standing beside her. This slight dark person pulled at her arm, and she followed her willingly to a settee by the wall. “Oh, how horrid she is,” the stranger went on. “I wish I could slap her!”
Euphie was bewildered. “I don’t understand.”
Her companion lifted large brown eyes to her face. “Didn’t Miss Hartington tell you?”
“Miss Hartington? You mean my sister? Tell me what? Do you know her too?”
The girl flushed bright red. “Yes. I am sorry. My name is Mary Deming. I should have told you sooner. I was at school with Lady Agnes, and your sister. She was a teacher there, I mean. A wonderful teacher! We just came down to London two days ago. Lady Agnes and I, that is. We took the same coach; it was hateful! We are both coming out this season. This is my first party.”
In response to this rather disjointed statement, Euphie frowned. “I see. But what was it that my sister did not tell me? And why was Lady Agnes so rude?”
Mary Deming shook her head. “If Miss Hartington hasn’t told of it, I shan’t.”
“What?”
But the other shook her head again.
“I assure you my sister will tell me whatever it is. We have always shared everything.”
“I am sure she will. But I shan’t.” Miss Deming turned to watch the group they had left. “Lady Agnes is spreading some horrid lie. I must go and stop her.”
Euphie looked from the arrogant blond across the floor to the obviously terrified Mary. “How will you do that?”
The girl shivered. “I don’t know. She is so horrid. But I must try. Miss Hartington was so kind to me.” And with this, she rose and went back.
Euphie watched the group curiously for some time. A new excitement was evident in it; some news was clearly being passed. But Euphie was preoccupied with the idea of her sister. What had happened to Thalia to make Lady Agnes act as she had? Euphie wanted to hurry home immediately to write to her sister, or better yet, to go to her, but she knew this was impossible. Frowning, she walked back to the sofa where Lady Fanshawe sat and took up her station behind her. She could do nothing but wait, with as good a grace as she could muster, for the evening to end.
It seemed interminable. The countess did not notice at first that she had returned, so Euphie was left to herself. She watched the group of young people continue their lively discussion. Lady Agnes Crewe and Mary Deming seemed to have gotten involved in a fairly public dispute, and the rest were reacting with varying degrees of amusement, embarrassment, or discomfort, depending on their characters. The rest of the party went on, oblivious.
Finally, at eleven, Euphie could stand it no longer. She bent over Lady Fanshawe and murmured, “Are you not getting tired, ma’am? Perhaps we should go.”
The countess started and turned to stare at her. “Euphie! What are you doing here? I sent you off to enjoy yourself with the other young people.”
The girl grimaced.
“What is the matter?”
Euphie did not want to explain what had happened, at least not until she could communicate with Thalia, so she said, “I have the headache. I couldn’t endure the chatter.”
Lady Fanshawe surveyed her with narrowed eyes. “Headache? You never feel ill.”
Euphie shrugged and looked at the floor. It was all she could do to stand quietly when she wished only to rush from the party and find out about her sister.
“Do you really want to leave?” asked the countess.
Euphie nodded emphatically.
The older woman continued to look perplexed, but she shrugged slightly and rose. “It is true I am a bit tired. I am not used to this dizzy gaiety. Very well, then. We shall go.”
They said their good-byes to their hostess and then went in search of Lord Fanshawe. The countess insisted she must bid him farewell also. He was not in the cardroom, as they expected, but when they came back to the drawing room, they saw him in the far corner, talking once more to the dashing young matron Euphie had noticed earlier. They walked toward them, reaching the earl just as another older woman and young girl did so. Euphie saw that it was Mary Deming, and a woman so like her that it must be her mother.
“Lord Fanshawe,” said Mrs. Deming. “May I present my daughter Mary to you. She is my youngest, you know.”
The earl’s back was to his mother and Euphie, so they could not see his face, but the tone in which he replied was so blatantly discouraging that Euphie flushed in sympathetic embarrassment. Lord Fanshawe sounded unutterably bored at the idea of meeting Miss Deming, and he also managed to convey the impression that they had interrupted a much more agreeable conversation to push themselves upon him.
Mary herself blushed fiery red, and even her mother showed spots of color. The young matron beside the earl suppressed a smile.
For a moment, no one spoke. Euphie, though she very much wished to ease the situation somehow, could think of nothing to say. She was transfixed by Lord Fanshawe’s rudeness. How different he was tonight!
Finally the earl himself drawled, “You are coming out this season, I suppose?”
“Y-yes,” stammered Mary. She opened her mouth to continue, but only a strangled sound emerged.
Lord Fanshawe sighed. “It is amazing; there seem to be more debs each year. I cannot account for it.”
Mrs. Deming’s eyes flashed, but before she could speak, the countess moved forward. “How abominable you are, to be sure, Giles,” she said. “You make me blush for you. Hello, Mrs. Deming. This is your daughter Mary? Charming. Have you met my young friend, Miss Euphrosyne Hartington?”
Mrs. Deming greeted Euphie, and the two girls managed to convey the idea that they had met.
“We are going, Giles,” continued Lady Fanshawe. “We came to say good-bye, though I almost wish I hadn’t. So nice to have seen you, Mrs. Deming.” And with this, she and Euphie moved off, followed almost immediately by the Demings. Euphie noticed that the countess had ignored the other woman in the group completely, and wondered why.
Once they were in the carriage and headed home, Lady Fanshawe leaned back with a long sigh. “Well, it was an interesting evening. I enjoyed myself, but it also reminded me of all the things I hate about society. People are so artificial.”
“Lord Fanshawe seemed very different,” ventured Euphie. She could not reconcile the two pictures of him now in her mind.
Lady Fanshawe sighed again. “Yes, he is always so, among the ton. He is on the defensive, you see, and he does it so badly.”
“The defensive?”
“Yes. He is very much sought after, not just by matchmaking mamas, but by everyone. For some reason, Giles i
s all the crack, in spite of his sometimes appalling rudeness. And so he is forced to hold people at arm’s length, so as not to be overwhelmed, you see. And he is not at all good at it. I have seen it done with such address that the poor object does not even know he has been snubbed, but Giles can’t seem to get in the way of it. I have seen exchanges like that one with the poor Deming child time after time.” She shook her head.
Euphie digested this in silence for a space. Then she said, “You did not introduce me to the other woman there.”
The countess’s chin came up. “I did not. And I shan’t, either.”
Her tone was truculent, and Euphie had to be content with this rather uninformative dismissal.
When they reached home, the footman let down the carriage steps and helped Lady Fanshawe down, and Jenkins threw open the front doors. As Euphie walked inside, the butler stopped her. “A letter came for you while you were out, Miss Hartington. Brought by special messenger.” He held out an envelope.
Thinking at once of Thalia, Euphie took it and tore it open. The note covered one full page, and she began to scan it rapidly. As she read, her eyes gradually widened, and finally she looked up with an expression of astonishment.
“What is it, dear?” said the countess. “Nothing is wrong, I hope?”
“No. It is all right. It is all all right somehow.” Euphie sounded dazed.
“What is all right?”
“Everything!”
Frowning, Lady Fanshawe took her arm and began to lead her up the stairs. “Come to the drawing room this minute and explain what you mean.”
In the drawing room, the countess pushed Euphie into an armchair and sat down opposite her. “Now, then.”
A bit more composed, Euphie heaved a happy sigh and said, “The letter is from my sisters, both of them. They are back home, and they say there was a mistake over my aunt’s will. I don’t understand all the details, but she left us something after all, quite a lot of money, Aggie says.”
For just a moment Lady Fanshawe’s face showed chagrin; then she smiled and said, “My dear child, how wonderful.”
Euphie nodded. “And Aggie and Thalia are coming to London. That is why they did not call me home too. They ask me to find hotel rooms for them. We are to have our own house and spend the season here.” She sighed again. “Oh, I can hardly believe it. It seems too perfect.” Then she sat up straight. “Do you know a good hotel, Lady Fanshawe? One suitable for Aggie and Thalia? I must see about it first thing tomorrow.”
“But, my dear, they must come to stay here. I insist. I won’t have your sisters going to a hotel.”
“Oh, but you have done so much.”
The countess waved this aside. “I have a strong desire to see your sisters, in any case. You will write tomorrow and ask them here.” The very slight disappointment in her ladyship’s eyes had disappeared. “I positively insist.”
Euphie hesitated, then smiled. “Thank you,” she replied. “I will.”
IV.
THE THREE GRACES
Nineteen
After a flurry of letters between Euphie and her sisters, it was settled that they would stay with Lady Fanshawe for the present. And the two older girls arrived by private chaise on a warm late-spring afternoon when the countess was taking her post-luncheon rest. Their reunion was tender, and they were grateful to be left to themselves for a while, to pour out the stories of their weeks apart. Euphie and Thalia heard about the Wellfleets and their kindness and were pleased to know that they would have an opportunity to meet this amiable couple in London. Aggie and Euphie expressed outrage at Thalia’s tale, the latter wishing to write a stiff letter to Mrs. Elguard. The older girls discouraged her, but when Euphie told them that Lady Agnes Crewe and Mary Deming were now in London and described her encounter with them, Thalia’s green eyes glinted ominously. Finally, Euphie told them about her time in town, and Lady Fanshawe’s kindness to her. “She hopes we will stay here for the season,” finished the youngest sister. “I told her I must wait and see.”
Aggie nodded “She may change her mind now that we are all three on her hands.”
Euphie bounced in her chair. “But tell me about Aunt’s will. What happened? Why did you not call me home?”
“I started to,” replied Aggie. “But by then I had decided to come to London, and Mr. Gaines had everything so well in hand that I really needed no help. So I just summoned Thalia, and we came on to you here.”
“What a relief it was to get that summons,” put in Thalia.
“But the will?”
Thalia grinned. “There was a later one, after all. You will never guess how it came to light.”
“I don’t want to guess! Tell me.”
“Hannibal found it!” Thalia’s eyes twinkled. “Aunt Elvira must have been reading it just before she died, because it had slipped far down behind the cushion of her armchair. Hannibal was clawing at the chair one day, and he uncovered the document.” She choked. “He chewed it up a bit, but it was still readable when the maid came upon him. She sent for Mr. Gaines, and he summoned Aggie.”
Euphie had dissolved into laughter. “Aunt would be so pleased,” she gasped out.
Thalia began to laugh too. She nodded.
Aggie smiled and shook her head at them. “At any rate, Euphie, Aunt Elvira left us half her fortune, and the cats the other half. Since she apparently had an immense amount of money, that leaves all of us very well off indeed.”
Euphie sighed happily. “How comfortable.”
“Isn’t it?” agreed Thalia.
“And… and so, I thought you would wish to spend a season in London, you and Thalia, I mean. You must have a proper ‘come-out.’”
“You too,” replied Euphie. “Or you first, I should say. Perhaps… perhaps I should wait a year.” She made this heroic suggestion with only the slightest tremor in her voice.
“No,” snapped Aggie, surprising them all.
“What is it?” asked the middle sister. She turned to Euphie. “Something is wrong with Aggie. I’ve sensed it since I went home again. But she won’t tell me.”
“There is nothing wrong! And no one will wait a year for anything. We must all come out at once, I suppose.”
The other two looked at her with concern. It was quite unlike their even-tempered older sister to snap like this. Euphie started to speak, but a subtle signal from Thalia stopped her. She frowned, then said, “Well, that will be a nine days’ wonder. I daresay we will make a hit.”
“I don’t know that I want to,” answered Thalia.
“Of course you do. It will be great fun.”
Before Thalia could reply, there was a sound from the doorway of the drawing room, and all three sisters turned at once.
Lady Fanshawe was just coming in, and they smiled and rose. The countess, seeing them, stood stock-still, her hand on the doorknob, her eyes wide.
Lady Fanshawe had naturally thought Euphie a very pretty girl indeed, and when she had considered the matter, she supposed that her sisters would be pretty as well. But none of her speculations had prepared her for the dazzling sight that now met her eyes. Separately, each of the Hartington girls was striking, but when they stood together, the effect seemed to be multiplied much more than three times, and they were astonishing.
“Oh, my dears,” said Lady Fanshawe when she found her voice, “I shall give a ball. I positively must give a ball at once!” She came into the room dazedly, as one who sees a heavenly vision, forgetting to close the door behind her. Pug trotted in at her heels.
Aggie and Thalia exchanged an amused glance as Euphie made the introductions.
When everyone had sat down again, the countess looked from one to the other, shaking her head. “Have you any idea how lovely you are?” she said finally. “You three are going to set London on its ear, and if you don’t allow me to help you, I shall never recover from the disappointment.”
Thalia laughed, then quickly suppressed it.
But Lady Fanshawe merely
nodded at her and smiled. “Yes, I daresay I sound quite demented. I don’t think you have any idea of the effect you create together.”
“Effect?” echoed Aggie, a little bewildered.
“Never mind. Just do say that I may give a ball in your honor, to present you to society. Grant me only that.”
The sisters looked at one another. “That’s very kind of you, Lady Fanshawe,” began Aggie, “but—”
“You will need a sponsor, you know. It is difficult to meet members of the ton without an introduction, even when your connections are good. And a ball is the only proper way to begin a come-out. Really.”
She looked so eager that the girls did not know how to refuse. Aggie again glanced at the others, and seeing no objection in their eyes, she shrugged and said, “You are kind. Very well, we accept, but you must let us share the expense with you.”
The countess brushed this irrelevant concern aside. “It must be as soon as possible, and I think you should not show yourselves in town until then. What a coup it will be!”
Thalia frowned. “Not show ourselves? But I want to get some clothes, and have my hair cut.” She put a hand up to her braids, still wound about her head. “Aggie and Euphie are ahead of me there.”
“Oh, as to that, of course you will all wish to shop. I only meant that you should not attend any ton parties before the ball.”
Thalia laughed. “Well, that is easy enough, as we are not invited to any.”
“Splendid! I shall send out invitations today. How surprised everyone will be. I have not entertained in years. They will all come, out of curiosity. And then, we will have them, my dears.” She chuckled. “What fun it will be to see some of the faces. I can scarcely wait.”
The girls exchanged another amused glance, and in the far corner of the drawing room, Pug began to howl piteously.
All of them started and turned to see the dog backed into the corner, facing three varicolored balls of fur. Brutus, Juvenal, and Nero had found a collective sport which apparently dissolved any lingering suspicion among them. When first reintroduced after their separation, the kittens had shown little enthusiasm, but this was apparently a thing of the past. They advanced in a united front. Pug, at this multiplication of the terror of his existence, had completely collapsed. He cowered in the corner, making no effort to defend himself from the kittens’ playful onslaught.
