Chevenix Castle,

13th November.

[Sidenote:  Tableaux]

Dearest Mamma,—­I enjoyed my self last night quite as much as at the ball here; but first, I must tell you about Thursday and yesterday.  The morning after the ball here no one came down till lunch, and in the afternoon Lady Doraine suggested we should have some tableaux in the evening, and so we were busy all the time arranging them.  They were all bosh; but it was so amusing.

Mrs. Pike lent every one her tea-gowns—­she has dozens—­and they did splendidly for the Queen of Sheba; and Mr. Pike played Charles I. having his head cut off, as Lady Doraine told him he had just the type of lofty melancholy face for that.  I was the Old Woman in the Shoe, with all the biggest people for children; but the best of all was Dolly Tenterdown as “Bubbles.”  Lord Doraine and Mr. Wertz and Tom and some others played “Bridge” all the time while we were arranging them; but Lord Valmond was most useful, and in such a decent temper.  After they were over we danced a little, and it was all delightful.

[Sidenote:  A Game of Patience]

Yesterday, the day of the county ball in Chevenix, they shot again; and it rained just as we all came down ready to start for the lunch; so we couldn’t go, and had to lunch indoors without most of the men.  Mr. Pike hadn’t gone shooting, because I heard Tom saying the night before to Lady Doraine that he wouldn’t chance the party being murdered again, and that she must keep him at home somehow.  So she did, and taught him Patience in the hall after lunch; and Mrs. Pike went and wanted to learn it too, but Lady Doraine—­who was lovely to her—­somehow did not make much room on the sofa, so she had to go and sit somewhere else.

[Sidenote:  A Broad Hint]

Half the people were playing “Bridge,” and the rest were very comfortable, and smoking cigarettes, of course; so Mrs. Pike did too.  Her case is gold, with a splendid monogram in big rubies on it; but I am sure it makes her feel sick, because she puffs it out and makes it burn up as soon as she can without its being in her mouth.  She had to go and lie down after that, as she said she would be too tired for the ball; but nobody paid much attention.

It was more lively at tea-time, when the guns came in.  And Lord Doraine would sit by me; he talked about poetry, and said dozens of nice things about me, and all sorts of amusing ones about every one else; and Lord Valmond, who had gone to write some letters at a table near, seemed so put out with every one talking, that he could not keep his attention, and at last tore them up, and came and sat close to us, and told Lord Doraine that he could see Mr. Wertz was longing for “Bridge.”  And so he got up, and laughed in such a way, and said, “All right, Harry, old boy,” and Valmond got crimson—­I don’t know what at—­and looked as cross as a bear for a few minutes.  We had rather a hurried dinner.