A Night of Gaiety by Barbara Cartland Page A

well-decorated room at least six times the size of Davita’s.
    Inside there was a basket of purple orchids that made her exclaim with astonishment:
    “I have never seen anything so exotic!”
    There were several other floral arrangements in the room, which Davita could not help thinking looked very different from the rest of the house.
    The large bed had a pink satin cover on it trimmed with lace which matched the pillow-cases, and there were a number of satin cushions on the chaise-longue and on two comfortable arm-chairs arranged on either side of the fireplace.
    There were white fur rugs on the floor, and the tasselled pink silk curtains were very different from the roughly made Holland ones which covered the windows of Davita’s room.
    What made it different from any other bedroom Davita had ever seen were the photographs which were arranged on the mantelshelf, the dressing-table, and on every other piece of furniture.
    Stuck on the wall on each side of the mantelpiece were press-cuttings.
    These of course all referred to Violet, and the photographs were mostly of her, although some of them were of other actresses, and one or two of men.
    They were all signed, and Davita thought she would enjoy looking at them when there was time.
    But Violet said now:
    “Undo my gown for me, and the quicker I can get between the sheets, the better. I forgot to tell Billy to knock on my door at five-thirty. Will you remind him?”
    “Yes, of course I will,” Davita replied as she undid Violet’s gown.
    She hung it up in the wardrobe, and by the time she had put away her hat, Violet had covered her hair with a net to keep it tidy, slipped into her nightgown, and was in bed.
    Davita drew the curtains and as she left the room she fancied that Violet was already asleep.
    She thought she would go into her own room and take off her bonnet.
    Then when she opened the door she had a shock, for perched on top of one of her trunks, because there was nowhere else to put it, was a basket nearly as large as the one in Violet’s room, but instead of orchids it was filled with white roses and lilies.
    She was staring at it in astonishment, thinking it must really have been meant for Violet, until seeing the card attached to the handle she pulled it off and read:
    To a very bonny lassie from a most admiring Mundesley
    Davita drew in her breath.
    It struck her that Violet would be annoyed at Lord Mundesley spending so much money and paying so much attention to her.
    She looked at the card, read it again, and wished it was possible to send the flowers back without Violet being aware that he had given them to her.
    ‘I shall have to thank him,’ she thought, and she wished again, as she had last night, that she need not see him again.
    Then she remembered Violet’s message and hurried down the stairs to find Billy.
    She reached the last flight and saw him speaking to somebody at the front door. As she came down into the Hall, she could see that it was a servant in livery.
    B illy turned round and saw her.
    “ Ah, t’ere y’ are, Miss. Oi were co m in’ to find yer.”
    “ I was coming to find you,” Davita replied. “Miss Lock says please remember to knock on her d oor at five-thirty.”
    “ Oi’ll not forget,” Billy answered. “An’ t’ere’s some-un ’ere as wants t’ speak t’ yer.”
    “ Speak to me?” Davita questioned in surprise.
    S he saw that the servant was no longer standing in the doorway but was outside in the street where there was a closed brougham.
    “ Who is it?” she asked.
    “ Oi were just told ’twas a gent’man as wants to ’ave a word wiv yer.”
    D avita stood irresolute.
    I t would only be one of two gentlemen, and if it was Lord Mundesley she had no wish to speak to him.
    Y et she knew it would be rude to refuse, and it flashed through her mind that while she must thank him for the flowers, she would ask him not to send her any more.
    B illy was holding the door open for her, and she walked down