Just about this time Agnes went to sleep in the other corner, and the moment Lord Valmond saw she was really off, he bent forward and said in such a humble voice, that he was sorry he had offended me at Nazeby; he had yielded to a sudden temptation, and he could only ask me to forgive him.  He had quite mistaken my character he said, he now saw I was a serious person, but he had been deceived by the dimple in my left cheek. (Now isn’t it provoking, Mamma, to have a dimple like that, that gives people the impression they may treat you with want of respect?) I said I did not believe a word of it, and, as we were only the merest acquaintances, it did not matter whether I forgave him or not, and I hoped he would not mention the subject again.  He then asked me if I was going to stop at Hazeldene until Saturday.  So you see, Mamma, he must have known I was going there all along; aren’t men odd?  You can’t trust them one minute not to be deceiving you, only I think on the whole I prefer them to women, they can’t copy your clothes at all events.  After that he seemed to think we had quite made everything up, and went on talking in the friendliest way, but I would not thaw; he shall not have the chance of blaming my dimple again for any of his misconduct!  At last I said I hated talking in the train, and pretended to go to sleep.  But I could not get really off, because every time I opened my eyes just to see where we were, I found him looking at me.  A huge omnibus was waiting for us when we arrived, and several more guests had come by the same train and we all drove to the house together.  They were having tea on the croquet lawn—­Lady Westaway and some other people, and the eldest son’s wife.  You remember what a fuss there was when he married, how Lady Westaway had hysterics for three days.  Well, she looks as if she could have them again any moment.

[Sidenote:  An Attractive Woman]

Mrs. Westaway is awfully pretty.  She was lying in a swing chair, showing lots of petticoat and ankle.  The ankle isn’t bad, but the petticoat had common lace on it.  She has huge turquoise earrings, and very stick-out hair arranged to look untidy with tongs.  She smiles all the time, and wears lots of different colours.  She calls every one by their Christian name, and always catches hold of the men’s coats, or fixes their buttonholes or ties, or holds their arms and whispers:  and every one is in love with her, and she has the greatest success.  So I can’t think, Mamma, why you have always told me never to do any of these things, when you want me to be a success so much.  Her voice is dreadfully shrill, and such an odd pronunciation, but no one seems to mind that.  I rather like her, she is so jolly but some of the women of the party won’t speak to her, except to say disagreeable things.  Jane Roose is here, she has been here since she left Nazeby (Violet is at the sea), and she came up to my room as we were going to dress, and I have only just got rid of her.