Page:The Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman.djvu/51

 After luncheon on the Saturday, we had a long talk together. I think I said I’d shew him the house. As you know, I yield to no one in my love for the dear old Hall, but Colonel Butler was like a child. You’d have said he’d never been inside a big house before; I don’t believe he ever had. . . I took him everywhere, even Phyllida’s rooms; it was well for him to see, I felt. . . I remember he thanked me for having him invited to the Hall; from his tone you’d have said I was playing fairy god-mother, and he credited me with the very friendly reception that every one had given him. If the truth must be known—I wasn’t taking sides; you must understand that!—I wanted them to see and I wanted him to see. . . As Will once said, “Half the world doesn’t know how the other half lives.” I felt that, when Colonel Butler stood there, everything sinking in. A man, I suppose, always is rather bewildered at the number of things a girl requires—frocks, gloves, hats, shoes, stockings. . . You mustn’t think that I shewed him Phyllida’s wardrobe! Goodness me, no! But her maid was in the room, getting things ready for the child’s return from hunting. It was almost pathetic; one could fancy the poor young man counting on his fingers and saying: “She must have as good