out his coming back to England, and his Warwickshire
castle, and the fire, and Mrs. Norton giving up her house in--some
county or other; I've already forgotten which--to live with her
"distinguished brother." Also, they say that he has a ward, whose mother
was a relative of the family, and whose father was the Honourable
Frederic Lethbridge, so well known and popular in society during the
"late eighties." Ellaline was born in 1891. What had become of him, I'd
like to know? Perhaps he died before she was born. She has told me that
she can't remember him, but that's about all she has ever said of her
father.

We are to stay at the Ritz until we start off on the motor trip, which
is actually going to happen, though I was afraid it was too good to be
true. The new car won't be ready for a week, though. I am sorry, but
Mrs. Norton isn't. She is afraid she will be killed, and thinks it will
be a messy sort of death to die. Besides, she likes London. She says her
brother will be "overwhelmed with invitations"; but he hates society,
and loathes being lionized. Imagine the man smothered under stacks of
perfumed notes, as Tarpeia was under the shields and bracelets! Emily
has not lived in London, because she wanted to be in a place where she
particularly valued the vicar and the doctor; but she has given them up
for her brother now, and is only going to write her symptoms, spiritual
and physical. She enjoys church more than anything else, but thinks it
will be her duty to take me about a little while we're in town, as her
brother is sure not to, because he spurns women, and is not interested
in anything they do.

I suppose she must know; and yet, at lunch yesterday, he asked if we
were too tired, or if we should like to "do a few theatres." I
said--because I simply _had_ to spare them a shock later--that I was
afraid I hadn't anything nice to wear. I felt myself go red--for it was
a sort of disgrace to Ellaline--but he didn't seem as much surprised as
Mrs. Norton did. Her eyebrows went up; but he only said of course school
girls never had smart frocks, and I must buy a few dresses at once.

One evening gown would be enough for a young girl, Mrs. Norton said, but
he didn't agree with her. He said he hadn't thought about it, but now
that it occurred to him, he was of opinion that women should have plenty
of nice things. Then, when she told him, rather hurriedly, that she
would choose me something ready made at a good shop in Oxfo