and sat so long in the cosy bar-parlor watching the dusk
stealing through the misted trees that they decided to send a telegram
to the theater announcing their illness. Then they stayed another night
and went for another drive, laughing and chatting down the deep Surrey
lanes. After dinner Jenny went back to Hagworth Street, and had a
flaming quarrel with her mother, who accused her of "going gay";
demanded to know how she dared put in an appearance dressed in another
woman's clothes; insisted that she was to come home immediately after
the theater; forbade a hundred things, and had the door slammed in her
face for the advice. There were mad days as well as spangled nights.
There were days at the Zoo with Bill Fur, a schoolmaster always full of
information until he found his hat in the middle of the giraffes'
enclosure, or perceived his gloves viewed with dislike by a cassowary.
Bill Fur, however, would gladly have lost more than gloves or hat to be
free for a while from the Margate school where he taught delicate boys
the elements of Latin. To himself he was Don Juan in bravery of black
satin slashed with purple. To the girls he was, as Jenny put in, a
scream. To the world, he was a rather foolish middle-aged schoolmaster.

Perhaps it was Colonel Walpole who first suggested to Jenny that all men
were not merely ridiculous. From his seat in the front row of stalls, he
perceived her charm; sent round a note to the stage door; took her out
to supper and champagne. When he found she was a good girl, he seemed to
like her more than ever, and gave her tea in the flat whose windows
looked over the sunlit tree-tops of Green Park. He also gave her some
pretty dresses and hats. The other girls whispered and giggled when
Jenny's back was turned. Her mother was sharply inquisitive and
extremely suspicious.

"Who cares?" said Jenny. "There's _nothing_ in it."

Colonel Walpole took her for long motor drives, gave her salmon
mayonnaise at Weybridge, chicken mayonnaise at Barnet, salmon mayonnaise
at Henley, chicken mayonnaise at Cobham, and lobster _au gratin_ at
Brighton. Colonel Walpole was very paternal, and Jenny liked him. He had
a cool, clean appearance and a pleasant voice. Whatever may have been
his ultimate intentions, he behaved very well, and she was sorry when he
went away on a Tibetan shooting expedition.

"My friend, the Prince, has gone away," she told the girls; and "don't
laugh," she added, "because I _don't_ lik