y kept the few they had to read between tea and dinner on Sunday.

By this time I felt I should do something wicked; and if the luncheon gong
had not sounded, I do not know what would have happened.

Mr. Montgomerie said rather gallant things to me when the cheese and port
came along, while the girls looked shocked, and Lady Katherine had a stony
stare. I suppose he is like this because he is married. I wonder, though,
if young married men are the same. I have never met any yet.

By Monday night I was beginning to feel the end of the world would come
soon. It is ten times worse than ever having had to conceal all my
feelings and abjectly obey Mrs. Carruthers. Because she did say cynical,
entertaining things sometimes to me, and to her friends, that made one
laugh. And one felt it was only she who made the people who were dependent
upon her do her way, because she herself was so selfish, and that the rest
of the world were free if once one got outside.

But Lady Katherine and the whole Montgomerie _milieu_ give you the
impression that everything and everybody must be ruled by rules; and no
one could have a right to an individual opinion in any sphere of society.

You simply can't laugh--they asphyxiate you. I am looking forward to this
afternoon and Mr. Carruthers coming over. I often think of the days at
Branches, and how exciting it was, with those two, and I wish I were back
again.

I have tried to be polite and nice to them all here, and yet they don't
seem absolutely pleased.

Malcolm gazes at me with sheep's eyes. They are a washy blue, with the
family white eyelashes (how different to Lord Robert's!). He has the most
precise, regulated manner, and never says a word of slang; he ought to
have been a young curate, and I can't imagine his spending money on any
Angela Greys, even if she is a horse or not.

He speaks to me when he can, and asks me to go for walks round the golf
course. The four girls play for an hour and three-quarters every morning.
They never seem to enjoy anything--the whole of life is a solid duty. I am
sitting up in my room, and Veronique has had the sense to have my fire
lighted early. I suppose Mr. Carruthers won't come until about four--an
hour more to be got through. I have said I must write letters, and so
have escaped from them and not had to go for the usual drive.

I suppose he will have the sense to ask for me, even if Lady Katherine is
not back when he comes.

This morning it w