Mr. Carruthers, however, seemed hardly to notice
this.
"Darling," he said, "I will try not to annoy you; but you are so fearfully
provoking. I--tell you truly, no man would find it easy to keep cool with
you."
"Oh, I don't know what it is, being cool, or not cool," I said, wearily.
"I am tired of every one. Even as tiny a thing as Malcolm Montgomerie gets
odd like this!"
He leaned back and laughed, and then said, angrily: "Impertinence! I will
wring his neck!"
"Thank Heaven we have arrived!" I exclaimed, as we drove under the
portico. I gave a great sigh of relief.
Really, men are very trying and tiresome, and if I shall always have to
put up with these scenes through having red hair, I almost wish it were
mouse-colored, like Cicely Parker's. Mrs. Carruthers often said, "You
need not suppose, Evangeline, that you are going to have a quiet life with
your coloring; the only thing one can hope for is that you will screw on
your head."
Lady Ver and Lord Robert were already in the hall waiting for us, but the
second I saw them I knew she had been saying something to Lord Robert. His
face, so gay and _debonnaire_ all through dinner, now looked set and
stern, and he took not the slightest notice of me as we walked to the
box--the big one next the stage on the pit tier.
Lady Ver appeared triumphant--her eyes were shining with big blacks in the
middle, and such bright spots of pink in her cheeks--she looked lovely;
and I can't think why, but I suddenly felt I hated her.
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