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CHAPTER IV

May 25th.
Shall I be accused of harbouring a bevy of odalisques at No. 20
Lingfield Terrace? Calumny and Exaggeration walk abroad, arm in
arm, even on the north side of Regent's Park. If they had spied
Carlotta at my window this morning, they would have looked in for
afternoon tea at my Aunt Jessica's and have waylaid Mrs. Ralph
Ordeyne outside the Oratory. The question is: Shall Truth
anticipate them? I think not. Every family has its
irrepressible, impossible, unpractical member, its _enfant
terrible_, who is forever doing the wrong thing with the best
intentions. Truth is the _enfant terrible_ of the Virtues. Some
times it puts them to the blush and throws them into confusion;
at others it blusters like a blatant liar; at others, again, it
stutters and stammers like a detected thief. There is no knowing
how Truth may behave, so I shall not let it visit my relations.
I must confess, however, that I feared the possible passing by of
the two decrepit cronies, when Carlotta stood at my open French
window this morning.


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