But now I must return to the first of January. We left the Grove about a quarter past 12 and got home. I went to bed. In the morning we did dressmaking for the Fancy Ball on the 7th, and in the afternoon we all, except the boys who were out rabbitting, went to the School to help Miss Palmer with her Christmas tress and tea to the school children. It was rather slow work. Father and Basil walked over to dine at Pentlow, and Mother, Harry, Ally, and I went to a dance at the Can...ams. We got there pretty early and I had a delicious extra valse with Lancelot Andres. Oh delicious to go whirling round with him, tightly folded in his arms. Louis Trapmann, looking handsomer and wickeder than ever, came and asked if I had a dance for him. I would have let him have a dozen had he asked me, but he didn't. I had a heavenly polka with darling Charlie. He squeezed me finely, we sat on the stairs and flirted. I had two or three turns with Louis, but I suppose I did not valse well enough, so he proposed that we should go and sit out, which we did. He is a duck. He is quite different to other fellows. He is so natural and rather cheeky. He flatters and pays compliments which I like, though of course he does not mean them, and I don't believe them.

I sat out a set of Lancers with Charlie. He has promised to take me for a drive one evening. How delicious! He said he wished it was darker on the stairs so he could put his arm round my waist. He kept pressing his leg and knee against mine. He has made me promise to sit on the backstairs in the dark with him on the 14th. He is going to bring a piece of mistletoe.

I danced ever dance and got home about 3 o'clock on Friday morning.

(I am now leaving out a few entries because only indirectly festive, but would if I had time include a charming description of very simple amateur theatricals put on by the children - not the Bull children although they joined in - but some neighbor's children.)

Lancelot asked me if he might share my chair during the acting, which I allowed. He was very amusing as always. After the play we had tea and then dancing. We had three Quadrilles which neither Lancelot or I knew, and as were viz a viz each with a small kid, we didn't get on very correctly. I had a delicious polka later on with him in the evening.

Jan. 7. The day of the Fancy Ball. Freda and I walked to [Long] Melford in the morning to borrow a high comb for mother's mantilla from the Martyns. Then to Sudbury in the afternoon. Father shooting and dining at Boxted Hall. We started about 10 minutes to nine. All our dresses looked very nice.

On arriving at Lyston Hall we were rather surprised to see two Beefeater Whitehall guards in bearskins in the hall. They looked awfully well though. The Colonel dressed in a uniform of the court of somebody, and with a powdered wig, met us in the drawing room. Miss Grant looked awfully well as Espendentine with cloak, hat and sword. Louis . . . . as a cook with a pale blue ribbon across the shoulder under his arm. Lottie Palmer was lovely as a marquise poudree' with a splendid dress of pale maize Satin. Charlie was Sir Walter Raleigh. Lancelot in uniform, etc.

The best part was the Cotillion at the end which I enjoyed awfully. Louis and Lottie led it splendidly and looked very nice. I had several turns. Once I had an arrow given me by Louis to stick into the little red heart pinned to the coat of every man I wanted to dance with. So I stuck it into a handsome young officer who came with the Banes. I danced with Lancelot, Samuel, and some others. I was engaged to dance with Charlie, but he was in at supper. It was a rattling jolly dance. I got a little red and silver basket of bonbons in the lottery in the cotillion which I shall keep in remembrance of my first, and no doubt my last, cotillion. We got home about a quarter to four.

(My interruption. Well, if a comb for a mantilla was borrowed from the Martyns, that definitely implies they were still Catholics, and probably went abroad and had papal audiences, since the mantilla (black) is de rigeur and was from the onset of the Papal court of Garibaldi's time. Then clearly the French note was much in evidence, but odd that the diarist failed to understand the fancy dress of the cook - the Cordon Bleu of course. As for the enchanting device of the arrow and the heart, why on earth don't we have a revival of that kind of dance - what could be more enchanting? I must now really hunt up the cotillion which, as I think I mentioned, I took part in ONCE as a young girl at a Russian emigre' party in Londonin the early-ish 1920s. That must be fully described as in its own right it is worth it - but clearly somewhat rare and high-tide and expensive festivity for the occasional dance. January 8th was another dance at the Martyns, but she had neuralgia the first part of the evening, and then goes on. . . .)

A dear, a sweety. Think of the term "just ducky." This British term of affection makes me think of a comfortable, kind, reliable person you appreciate, someone it's easy to love in a non-romantic way. You could apply it to a friend or acquaintance you would also call "a brick" or "an old dear." - Pat Cody

A mantilla is a female's lace head covering you see in pictures of Spanish ladies, worn draped over a tall comb anchored at the back of the hair. Usually the lace is black or white. The comb props the oval lacepiece up at the back of the head and the lace then drapes over the hairline and forehead, hanging lower behind to shoulder length or below. - Pat Cody

A misspelling of "poudre," French for powder. Lottie must have dressed as a wife or widow of a European nobleman, rank above a count but below a duke. The spelling shows Lottie didn't mean to be an English Marchioness, the wife or widow of a Marquess, between a duke and an earl. She wore her hair powdered, or a powdered wig, in the manner of the previous century. - Pat Cody