The house was full of flowers. "Well, you look very festive, Smedley," she said, giving the butler the bunch of early daffodils from the garden she had brought for Christabel.
"Yes, madam. We're having a dinner tonight."
A dinner! Oh, dear, she thought, there'll be a lot of celebrities who won't want to talk to me. I wish to goodness there wasn't going to be a dinner!
Thank Heaven, she had made over her black evening dress, after a picture in Vogue. Fred said it looked fine. And, telling herself that no one would look at her, she was exhilarated by the thought that ran beneath—it does look nice!
It was late when Christabel rushed in, her cheeks glowing pink, her eyes starry.
"Oh, mother, mother, mother! Oh, darling, how heavenly to have you! I was heartbroken that I couldn't meet you! Did they tell you? It was just one of those things—oooh!"
"You're crushing—your—lovely gardenias,
