Monday 6th July, 1868
Captain Burnaby brought me my ticket for the Blues ball tonight. My vanity is content, but as far as the going is concerned, I am as far off as ever, seeing Mother has not the smallest chance of getting an invitation and she very properly will not let me go with May. We went to Mr West’s house in the evening and there again my vanity was agreeably gratified by the immense breach of etiquette he committed in favour of my beaux yeux.
Only fancy him passing over the Duchesses and Marchionesses whose position entitled them to the honour, and picking me out of the whole room to take down to supper, and others following just as they chose. A very nice fellow he is indeed, this Mr West. It appears he’s -‘s cousin, who, by the way, we met, and he told us Cornwallis had informed him that the one thing in London worth seeing just at present was my hair. -says he’s worth about £500-£1,000 a year and expectations, but unfortunately there’s madness in the family, which is rather a drawback. Still, altogether I think he’s worth cultivating.
Next week: envious glances
‘Every Girl’s Duty’, edited by Maggy Parsons, published by Andre Deutsch
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