"There's just one other house of my relations I must take you to," he
said; "you'll find it funny, but we must get it over; and then we'll
dine and go to the theatre."
In this way he prepared her for Timothy's. But Timothy's was different.
They were delighted to see dear Soames after this long long time; and so
this was Annette!
"You are so pretty, my dear; almost too young and pretty for dear
Soames, aren't you? But he's very attentive and careful--such a good
hush...." Aunt Juley checked herself, and placed her lips just under
each of Annette's eyes--she afterwards described them to Francie, who
dropped in, as: "Cornflower-blue, so pretty, I quite wanted to kiss
them. I must say dear Soames is a perfect connoisseur. In her French
way, and not so very French either, I think she's as pretty--though not
so distinguished, not so alluring--as Irene. Because she was alluring,
wasn't she? with that white skin and those dark eyes, and that hair,
couleur de--what was it? I always forget."
"Feuille morte," Francie prompted.
"Of course, dead leaves--so strange. I remember when I was a girl,
before we came to London, we had a foxhound puppy--to 'walk' it was
called then; it had a tan top to its head and a white chest, and
beautiful dark brown eyes, and it was a lady."
"Yes, auntie," said Francie, "but I don't see the connection."
"Oh!" replied Aunt Juley, rather flustered, "it was so alluring, and
her eyes and hair, you know...." She was silent, as if surprised in some
indelicacy. "Feuille morte," she added suddenly; "Hester--do remember
that!"....
Considerable debate took place between the two sisters whether Timothy
should or should not be summoned to see Annette.
"Oh, don't bother!" said Soames.
"But it's no trouble, only of course Annette's being French might upset
him a little. He was so scared about Fashoda. I think perhaps we had
better not run the risk, Hester. It's nice to have her all to ourselves,
isn't it? And how are you, Soames? Have you quite got over your...."
Hester interposed hurriedly:
"What do you think of London, Annette?"
Soames, disquieted, awaited the reply. It came, sensible, composed: "Oh!
I know London. I have visited before."
He had never ventured to speak to her on the subject of the restaurant.
The French had different notions about gentility, and to shrink from
connection with it might seem to her ridiculous; he had waited to be
married before mentioning it; and now he wished he hadn't.
"And what part do you know best?" said Aunt Juley.
"Soho," said Annette simply.
Soames snapped his jaw.