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Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943

"Red Hair"

It was a brooch, not a ring, but she was delighted, and purred to
him.
He was a little late, and we were seated, a party of eight, when he came
in. They all chaffed him about Paris, and he took it quite
good-humoredly--he even seemed pleased. He has no wit, but he looks like a
gentleman, and I dare say as husbands go he is suitable.
I am getting quite at home in the world, and can speak to any one. I
listen, and I do not talk much, only when I want to say something that
makes them think.
A very nice man sat next me to-day; he reminded me of the old generals at
Branches. We had quite a war of wits, and it stimulated me.
He told me, among other things, when he discovered who I was, that he had
known papa--papa was in the same Guards with him--and that he was the
best-looking man of his day. Numbers of women were in love with him, he
said, but he was a faithless being, and rode away.
"He probably enjoyed himself--don't you think so?--and he had the good
luck to die in his zenith," I said.
"He was once engaged to Lady Merrenden, you know. She was Lady Sophia
Vavasour then, and absolutely devoted to him, but Mrs. Carruthers came
between them and carried him off--she was years older than he was, too,
and as clever as paint."
"Poor papa seems to have been a weak creature, I fear."
"All men are weak," he said.


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