Besides, could not hope that it would pass without observation from Vicky, let alone Robert.

_Later.

Worst fears realised, as to hair. Dear Mary, always so observant, gazes at it in nerve-shattering silence but says nothing, till I am driven to make half-hearted explanation. Her only comment is that she cannot imagine why anybody should deliberately make themselves look ten years older than they need. Feel that, if she wishes to discourage further experiments on my part, this observation could scarcely be improved upon. Change the subject, and talk about the children. Mary most sympathetic, and goes so far as to say that my children have brains, which encourages me to tell anecdotes about them until I see Robert looking at me, just as I get to Robin’s precocious taste for really good literature. By curious coincidence second post brings letter from Robin, saying that he wishes to collect cigarette-cards and will I send him all the types of National Beauty, Curious Beaks, and Famous Footballers, that I can find. Make no comment on this singular request aloud.

Mary stays to tea and we talk about H. G. Wells, Women’s Institutes, infectious illness, and _Journey’s End_. Mary says she cannot go and see this latter because she always cries at the theatre. I say, Then once more will make no difference. Discussion becomes involved, and we drop it. Vicky comes in and immediately offers to recite. Can see that Mary (who has three children of her own) does not in the least want to hear her, but she feigns enthusiasm politely. Vicky recites: “Maître Corbeau sur un arbre perché”—(_N.B._ Suggest to Mademoiselle that Vicky’s repertory should be enlarged. Feel sure that I have heard Maitre Corbeau, alternately with La Cigale et la Fourmi, some eight hundred times within the last six months.)

After Mary has gone, Robert looks at me and suddenly remarks: “Now _that’s_ what I call an attractive woman.” Am gratified at his appreciation of talented friend, but should like to be a little clearer regarding exact significance of emphasis on the word _that_. Robert, however, says no more, and opportunity is lost as Ethel comes in to say Cook is sorry she’s run right out of milk, but if I will come to the store-cupboard she thinks there’s a tin of Ideal, and she’ll make do with that.

_January 25th.

Attend a Committee Meeting in the village to discusss how to raise funds for Village Hall. Am asked to take the chair. Begin by saying thaat I know how much we all have this excellent object at heart, and that I feel sure there swill be no lack of suggestions as to best method of obtaining requisite sum of money. Pause for suggestions, which is met with ddeath-like silence. I say, There are so many ways to choose from—implication being that I attribute silence to plethora of ideeas, rather than to absence of them. (_Note_: Curious and rather depressing, to see how ffrequeritly the pursuit of Good Works leads to apparently unavoidable duplicity.) Silence continues, and I say Well, twice, arnd Come, come, once. (Sudden impulse to exclaim, “I lift up my finger and I say Tweett, Tweet,” is fortunately overcome.) At last: extract a suggestion of a concert from Mrs. L. (whose son plays the violin) and a whist-drive from Miss P. (who won Ladies’ First Prize at the last one). Florrie P. suggests a dance and is at once reminded that it will be Lent. She says that Lent isn’t what it was.