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Authors: Brenda Hiatt
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door, Ellie noticed, but whether she hoped to see Lord Dearborn walk through it or Sir George Bellamy, who was also absent, she could not have said.
The greatest mark of distinction paid them, however, came not in the form of a caller but in that of a small white envelope which was delivered just as the last one took his leave. Mrs. Winston-Fitts plucked it from the tray Peters offered her, but waited until she had said her goodbyes to Mr. Whitendon to open it. Ellie was just leaving the parlour in order to change for their walk in the Park when she was halted by a most undignified whoop from her aunt.
"Almack's!" Aunt Mabel cried, jumping up to take Rosalind by both hands and dance her round the room, a sight that made Ellie stare in bemusement. "Lady Sefton must have spoken to the other patronesses. We have vouchers for Almack's! I must tell Emmett at once!" She ran from the room with a vigour that would have done credit to a woman half her age.
Rosalind and Ellie regarded each other rather breathlessly. Surprisingly, it was Rosalind who found her voice first.
"Mama seems extremely pleased," she said somewhat inadequately.
"I'm not surprised," replied Ellie. "The entree to Almack's should set the final seal on your social acceptance —and hers, as well." She could well believe that Aunt Mabel saw those vouchers as a tangible trophy for all her years of work to improve her social standing.
"And yours, also, Ellie," added Rosalind. "There were four vouchers in the envelope, for I saw them."
"Were there? I—I didn't notice." Ellie's thoughts flew at once to the evening before, when Lord Dearborn had asked if she went to Almack's on Wednesday, all but promising her a dance there. Could he have had anything to do with the vouchers being sent?
She reined in her errant thoughts sharply. "Well, presuming that Aunt Mabel still wishes to walk in the Park, we'd best hurry upstairs to change," she said briskly. "Come, Rosie, let me help you with your gown."
* * *
Hyde Park at five o'clock was thronged with those members of the fashionable world who deemed it a social necessity to assemble at that hour to see and be seen. Carriages and phaetons jostled with equestrians and pedestrians for space on the crowded paths.
Ellie looked about her with interest, taking in the panoply before them. She herself was feeling exceptionally elegant in a cambric walking dress of rose pink. The fact that the dress had belonged to Rosalind last year in no way detracted from her pleasure in it, for it became her colouring admirably and she knew it. As she observed the assortment of Society abroad in the Park, she was pleased to recognize quite a few faces, including Mrs. Millworth, whom she had met earlier that afternoon and liked quite well.
Mrs. Millworth had apparently spotted them, too, and strolled forward, along with three other ladies with whom she had been conversing. "Mrs. Winston-Fitts, Miss O' Day, Miss Winston-Fitts! How delightful to see you again so soon!" she exclaimed. "Have you met Lady Mountheath and her daughters?"
Introductions were made all round, and the seven ladies were soon in the midst of an animated discussion of fashion and gossip. Ellie quickly realized that Lady Mountheath and her daughters were especially fascinated with the latter, equipped as they were with an apparently inexhaustible supply of on dits to relate, primarily of the malicious variety. She was just deciding that she had no particular wish to become more intimate with them when Lord Dearborn drove up in a dashing royal blue high-perch phaeton.
"Give you good afternoon, ladies," he called down. "What a charming tableau you make, grouped like that. Might I prevail on you to spoil the effect somewhat by allowing Miss Winston-Fitts to take a turn about the Park with me?"
Rosalind eyed the precarious-looking vehicle with some apprehension, but her mother was already nudging her forward. "My daughter
The greatest mark of distinction paid them, however, came not in the form of a caller but in that of a small white envelope which was delivered just as the last one took his leave. Mrs. Winston-Fitts plucked it from the tray Peters offered her, but waited until she had said her goodbyes to Mr. Whitendon to open it. Ellie was just leaving the parlour in order to change for their walk in the Park when she was halted by a most undignified whoop from her aunt.
"Almack's!" Aunt Mabel cried, jumping up to take Rosalind by both hands and dance her round the room, a sight that made Ellie stare in bemusement. "Lady Sefton must have spoken to the other patronesses. We have vouchers for Almack's! I must tell Emmett at once!" She ran from the room with a vigour that would have done credit to a woman half her age.
Rosalind and Ellie regarded each other rather breathlessly. Surprisingly, it was Rosalind who found her voice first.
"Mama seems extremely pleased," she said somewhat inadequately.
"I'm not surprised," replied Ellie. "The entree to Almack's should set the final seal on your social acceptance —and hers, as well." She could well believe that Aunt Mabel saw those vouchers as a tangible trophy for all her years of work to improve her social standing.
"And yours, also, Ellie," added Rosalind. "There were four vouchers in the envelope, for I saw them."
"Were there? I—I didn't notice." Ellie's thoughts flew at once to the evening before, when Lord Dearborn had asked if she went to Almack's on Wednesday, all but promising her a dance there. Could he have had anything to do with the vouchers being sent?
She reined in her errant thoughts sharply. "Well, presuming that Aunt Mabel still wishes to walk in the Park, we'd best hurry upstairs to change," she said briskly. "Come, Rosie, let me help you with your gown."
* * *
Hyde Park at five o'clock was thronged with those members of the fashionable world who deemed it a social necessity to assemble at that hour to see and be seen. Carriages and phaetons jostled with equestrians and pedestrians for space on the crowded paths.
Ellie looked about her with interest, taking in the panoply before them. She herself was feeling exceptionally elegant in a cambric walking dress of rose pink. The fact that the dress had belonged to Rosalind last year in no way detracted from her pleasure in it, for it became her colouring admirably and she knew it. As she observed the assortment of Society abroad in the Park, she was pleased to recognize quite a few faces, including Mrs. Millworth, whom she had met earlier that afternoon and liked quite well.
Mrs. Millworth had apparently spotted them, too, and strolled forward, along with three other ladies with whom she had been conversing. "Mrs. Winston-Fitts, Miss O' Day, Miss Winston-Fitts! How delightful to see you again so soon!" she exclaimed. "Have you met Lady Mountheath and her daughters?"
Introductions were made all round, and the seven ladies were soon in the midst of an animated discussion of fashion and gossip. Ellie quickly realized that Lady Mountheath and her daughters were especially fascinated with the latter, equipped as they were with an apparently inexhaustible supply of on dits to relate, primarily of the malicious variety. She was just deciding that she had no particular wish to become more intimate with them when Lord Dearborn drove up in a dashing royal blue high-perch phaeton.
"Give you good afternoon, ladies," he called down. "What a charming tableau you make, grouped like that. Might I prevail on you to spoil the effect somewhat by allowing Miss Winston-Fitts to take a turn about the Park with me?"
Rosalind eyed the precarious-looking vehicle with some apprehension, but her mother was already nudging her forward. "My daughter
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