All this I swallowed with the equanimity and
patience born of many seasons of country-house visiting; I even
interviewed the old family and old-fashioned cook, on the subject of
a few new dishes, and I helped to entertain some of those strange
aboriginal creatures called "the county." But the announcement one
afternoon, that we were to spend the next in driving ten miles to
attend a Primrose League _Fete_ in the private grounds of a local
magnate, proved too much for me. Shall you be surprised to hear that
on the following morning I received an urgent telegram recalling me
to town? My hostess was, or affected to be, overwhelmned that by my
sudden departure I should miss the _fete_. I knew, however, that
the "dyed" girl rejoiced, and in company with the objectionable man
metaphorically threw up her hat.
As I passed through the Lodge-gates on my way to the station I almost
vowed that I would never pay another visit again. But even as I write,
an invitation was brought me. It is from my Aunt. She writes that she
has taken charming rooms at Flatsands, and hopes I will go and stay
with her there for a few days. She thinks the sea air will do me good.
Perhaps it will. I shall write at once and accept.
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