ge oneself in private only
made it more difficult not to indulge oneself in public. It really was
provoking that this nice new clasp should go wrong just this once, and
that the first time it was used! And she took from her pocket a tiny
prayer-book, and, holding it to the light, read the eighteenth psalm--it
was a particularly good one, that never failed her when she felt
low--she used no glasses, and up to the present had avoided any line
between the brows, knowing it was her duty to remain as nice as she
could to look at, so as not to spoil the pleasure of people round about
her. Then saying to herself firmly, "I do not, I WILL not want any
tea--but I shall be glad of dinner!" she rose and opened her cane trunk.
Though she knew exactly where they were, she was some time finding the
pincers, because there were so many interesting things above them, each
raising a different train of thought. A pair of field-glasses, the very
latest--the man had said--for darling Derek; they would be so useful to
keep his mind from thinking about things that it was no good thinking
about. And for dear Flora (how wonderful that she could write
poetry--poetry!) a really splendid, and perfectly new, little pill. She
herself had already taken two, and they had suited her to perfection.
For darling Felix a new kind of eau de cologne, made in Worcester,
because that was the only scent he would use. For her pet Nedda, a piece
of 'point de Venise' that she really could not be selfish enough to keep
any longer, especially as she was particularly fond of it. For Alan, a
new kind of tin-opener that the dear boy would like enormously; he was
so nice and practical. For Sheila, such a nice new novel by Mr. and Mrs.
Whirlingham--a bright, wholesome tale, with such a good description of
quite a new country in it--the dear child was so clever, it would be a
change for her. Then, actually resting on the pincers, she came on
her pass-book, recently made up, containing little or no balance, just
enough to get darling John that bag like hers with the new clasp, which
would be so handy for his papers when he went travelling. And having
reached the pincers, she took them in her hand, and sat down again to be
quite quiet a moment, with her still-dark eyelashes resting on her ivory
cheeks and her lips pressed to a colorless line; for her head swam from
stooping over. In repose, with three flies circling above her fine gray
hair, she might have served a sculptor f