But Lady Grace Fenton
was as cross as a bear because she wanted to go and shoot too. She is
just like a man, and does look so odd and almost improper in the
evening in female dress. And Tom won't have women out shooting, except
for lunch. Lady Doraine and Lady Greswold talked by the fire while they
smoked, and Lady Greswold said she really did not know where the peers
were to turn to now to make an honest penny, their names being no more
good in the City, and that it was abominably hard that now, she had
heard, they would have to understand business and work just like
ordinary Stock Exchange people if they wanted to get on, and she did
not know what things were coming to.
At lunch, in the chalet in the wood, it was rather fun. Mr. Hodgkinson
and Lord Doraine sat on either side of me. Lord Valmond came up with
the last guns, rather late, and he looked round the table and frowned.
He seems quite grumpy now, not half so good-tempered as he used to be.
I expect it is because Mrs. Smith isn't here.
Mr. Wertz was so beautifully turned out in the newest clothes and the
loveliest stockings, and he had two loaders and three guns, and Lord
Doraine told me that he had killed three pheasants, but the ground was
knee-deep in cartridges round him, and Tom was furious, as he likes an
enormous bag.
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