Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day by Winifred Watson

Author:Winifred Watson [Watson, Winifred]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781906462024
Publisher: Persephone Books
Published: 2000-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

6.21 PM—7.25 PM

Miss Pettigrew was extremely happy. She felt so delightfully light and airy she was almost sure she could make the passage to the door by simply floating through the air. She discerned a small portion of liquor still in the bottom of her glass. She drank it down. Miss LaFosse was gazing at Miss Pettigrew from the other side of the room. For the past quarter of an hour all her interest had been centred in Miss Pettigrew’s corner of the room. She had noted the length of Tony’s stay. She had noted Miss Dubarry join them. Her curiosity had reached fever heat. Then an acquaintance had blocked her vision, held her in conversation, and when next she had been free to gaze, Tony was gone; Miss Dubarry was gone.

Miss Pettigrew was standing alone with a rakish air, face radiant, eyes beaming, hair a little awry, an empty wineglass in her hand.

Miss Pettigrew was looking blissfully happy. Miss Pettigrew was looking too happy. Miss LaFosse knew that look. Her heart missed a beat. Her conscience smote her. Guinevere had been on the loose alone too long. She had completely forgotten to warn Tony not to judge her friend by the fur coat and the black dress; a most reprehensible lack of thought. She only hoped she wasn’t too late.

She gave a distracted answer to a friend, rudely left him and ploughed her way across the room towards her charge, a dubious eye on the empty wineglass. Miss Pettigrew gave her a beaming welcome.

“Guinevere,” said Miss LaFosse anxiously, “you haven’t been imbibing?”

“Imbibing?”

“The pins aren’t wobbling.”

“The pins?” repeated Miss Pettigrew. She raised her chin haughtily.

“The legs ,” said Miss Pettigrew with much dignity, “are perfectly steady.”

“Demonstrate,” said Miss LaFosse sternly.

Miss Pettigrew walked two steps back and two steps forward again. She managed it with commendable steadiness.

“Thank God!” said Miss LaFosse thankfully.

“Your suspicions,” said Miss Pettigrew reproachfully, “hurt me deeply.”

“No offence,” apologized Miss LaFosse. “My suspicions were not of you but of Tony.”

“A charming youth,” said Miss Pettigrew sentimentally, “if a little erratic. But your suspicions are again quite unfounded. One small drink only was all he offered or I accepted.”

“I know Tony’s drinks,” said Miss LaFosse, still grimly doubtful.

But her curiosity overcame her worry. She could contain her anxiety no longer.

“Where is he?” demanded Miss LaFosse expectantly.

“Where’s who?”

“Tony.”

“In the cloakroom,” said Miss Pettigrew dreamily.

“Oh!” exclaimed Miss LaFosse with a shock of disappointment.

“Where’s Edythe?” she asked hopelessly.

“In the cloakroom,” said Miss Pettigrew sentimentally.

“Oh!” cried Miss LaFosse again, excitement charging her voice. “Oh, Guinevere, don’t say it…don’t say it…”

“Say what?”

“They’re not…together?”

“Why not?” asked Miss Pettigrew. “To the pure, all things are pure.”

“Oh, you darling!” cried Miss LaFosse. “You’re marvellous…you’re wonderful…you’re a miracle. How did you do it? Didn’t I say you would! Oh, I’m so happy! I think you’re the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. Nobody but you could have done it. Tony and Edythe together again.”

Miss Pettigrew looked worldly-wise.

“My dear! All young people quarrel. It means nothing. Once they got together again, it was all quite simple.

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