Explore "The Yellow Face" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A resplendent footman took the names of the callers, and preceded them to the drawing-room. It was no uncommon thing for Lady Barmouth to invite a score or so of friends to supper after a reception or theatre. The footman intimated that his mistress was alone now, and that she was at present in the hands of her maid; therefore the callers had ample time to study the surroundings of so mysterious a person as Lord Barmouth.
That remarkable man, as everybody knew, had only been married a little over two years. Two years ago he himself had been a more or less popular figure in society. In the first place he was exceedingly rich, by no means ill looking, in fact he was a remarkably fine type of an all-round athlete. He was a triple blue at Oxford, a wonderfully keen shot, and a dashing polo player. At his house in the Shires his hunters were noted, as likewise were his coverts. Two years ago any man would have esteemed it a privilege to call himself Lord Barmouth's friend, and be free of his guns and his horses.