Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman
fact that he was in evening-dress. . . If he’d brought his cab in with him. . .
I hurried to the door, no longer caring whether he met Phyllida, whether she threw herself at his head. . . Anything. . .
“This is a case for heroic measures, Lady Ann,” he said, when I had explained my tragic position. “Some of these fellows have been doing themselves rather well and they swear they won’t go without a dance. If you leave things to me, I believe I can pull you through. Certainly I’ll do my best, but you must back me up in everything. Is that agreed? Then, as soon as the music stops, will you present me to the princess? I’ll get hold of your husband and Will and tell them what has to be done.”
I asked leave to present him. . . The princess knew his name, knew all about him—far more than I had ever guessed. It appears that he ought to have had the V.C.; and, if it lay in my gift, he should have had it that night! Oh, I don’t wonder that he did well in the war. Such coolness, determination, foresight. . .
“I expect Lady Ann has told you, ma’am,” he began, “that the Forest Rangers have been having their regimental dinner. Lady Ann has most kindly lent us the house for a little
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