‘But tonight,’ Cicely said to Tibor Rakassyi, ‘tonight there will be four beautiful ladies you have never seen before.’

‘Four? What excitement. Tell me about them.’

‘They are Mrs Walker Kerr, the Egeria of the Oxford academic world, and her two daughters. Please don’t ask me who Egeria is, or was, I only know that is what Mrs Walker Kerr is of Oxford. She is very tragic and handsome and a widow and her daughters are my best friends, and so is Grizel Warburton who is the other person who is coming.’

‘I thought best friends came singly. Can one have three at once?’

‘Certainly. I have seven. We are all going to be each other’s bridesmaids.’

‘How charming. Are they all as pretty as you?’

‘No, but some are prettier. Grizel Warburton is the prettiest person I know, of my age, I mean.’

‘Is she the daughter of Lord Warburton?’

‘Yes.’

‘I have met Lord Warburton. So I am already more interested in Miss Grizel than in your other friends.’

‘Oh, but the Walker Kerrs are perfectly well connected too. Mr Walker Kerr was a son of Lord Craven. He was killed in the most ghastly circumstances in Africa.’

‘How terrible. What sort of circumstances?’

‘He was eaten. By a huge black Zulu.’

‘Oh really, Cicely,’ Ida who was on the other side of the table had caught her daughter’s last remark. ‘You are naughty. It was nothing of the kind. He was killed in a perfectly straightforward manner in the Zulu wars.’

‘Exactly,’ said Cicely, undaunted. ‘In a perfectly straightforward manner. For a Zulu.’

‘I’m sure Zulus aren’t cannibals,’ said Ida, looking rather flustered. How could Cicely expect to make a good match if she persisted with this pert manner?

‘Granny told me,’ said Cicely. ‘Ask Tommy to ask her if it’s not true.’

Tommy was duly asked to pass the message to Sir Reuben who was next to him.

‘Of course he was eaten by cannibals, poor man. Too dreadful,’ was the answer.

Ida wondered whether Cicely and her grandmother were good for each other. Perhaps it was just as well that Cicely had invitations to house parties most of the winter.

Gilbert Hartlip was talking to Marcus about guns. His own Purdeys he said were the best he’d ever had – made to fit him – nothing like Purdey for smoothness and finish – yes, perhaps to fit a difficult customer, funny shoulders, one eye better than the other, Henry Holland had the experience, the patience – but he’d never go anywhere but Purdey now. Cogswell & Harrison, made when? – a very good beginner’s gun, he’d got his first elephant gun there – Indian tigers – Maharajas – staying with the Viceroy – Oh Africa, yes, Kenya, good sport – a marvellous country – Scotland, had he done any stalking yet? – he’d enjoy it – rabbits? no need to be deprecating about rabbits – a rabbit, said Lord Hartlip, was a thoroughly sporting little beast.