Her menage was
uncomfortable, and people were threatening to go. Every day nearly she
had a "scene" with some one, a guest or a servant, or both. Mrs. Collis
had burst into tears at a luncheon in honour of a rich Jewish
money-lender, because she thought herself insulted. She had been given a
kitchen dish-towel instead of a napkin, and had spoiled the party by
complaining of it. The stupid creature! As if some one were not obliged
to put up with the thing, since there were not enough napkins to go
round for so many! Lady Dauntrey had explained that she could not take
the dish-towel herself, as Monseigneur was on her right hand, Mr.
Holbein on her left. But even the fact that Lord Dauntrey contented
himself with a dust cloth did not appease Mrs. Collis, who said it was
only the last feather on the top of other grievances. And Dodo was
furious because, whenever Lady Dauntrey entertained, the servants were
so busy that she had to make her own bed, or see it lie tumbled just as
she had got out of it, until evening. Eve's violent temper had got the
better of her then, and she had flung her true opinion of Miss Wardropp
into the pretty painted face. "Persons who've never had anything decent
at home always complain more than any one else in other people's
houses," she had said; and Dodo had retorted with compliments of the
same kind.
Miss Wardropp often wondered if Lady Dauntrey knew the history of the
Villa Bella Vista. She did know, the agent having felt obliged to
confess, lest later she might hear the story and try to get out of her
bargain on the strength of it.
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