Queen Lucia

  Chapter ELEVEN

  The manoeuvres of the next week became so bewilderingly complicatedthat by Wednesday Georgie was almost thinking of going away to theseaside with Foljambe and Dicky in sheer despair, and in after years hecould not without great mental effort succeed in straightening it allout, and the effort caused quite a buzzing in his head.... That Sundayevening Lucia sent an invitation to Lady Ambermere for "dinner andtableaux," to which Lady Ambermere's "people" replied by telephone onMonday afternoon that her ladyship was sorry to be unable. Luciatherefore gave up the idea of a dinner-party, and reverted to heroriginal scheme of an evening party like Olga's got up on the spur ofthe moment, with great care and most anxious preparation. Therehearsals for the impromptu tableaux meantime went steadily forwardbehind closed doors, and Georgie wrestled with twenty bars of the musicof the "Awakening of Brunnhilde." Lucia intended to ask nobody untilFriday evening, and Olga should see what sort of party Riseholme couldraise at a moment's notice.

  Early on Tuesday morning the devil entered into Daisy Quantock,probably by means of subconscious telepathy, and she proceeded to goround the green at the morning parliament, and ask everybody to come infor a good romp on Saturday evening, and they all accepted. Georgie,Lucia and Olga were absentees, and so, making a house-to-housevisitation she went first to Georgie. He with secret knowledge of thetableaux (indeed he was stitching himself a robe to be worn by KingCophetua at the time and hastily bundling it under the table) regrettedthat he was already engaged. This was rather mysterious, but he mighthave planned, for all Mrs Quantock knew, an evening when he would be"busy indoors," and since those evenings were never to be pried upon,she asked no questions, but went off to Lucia's to give her invitationthere. There again she was met with a similarly mysterious refusal.Lucia much regretted that she and Peppino were unable to come, and shehoped Daisy would have a lovely party. Even as she spoke, she heard hertelephone bell ringing, and hurried off to find that Georgie, faithfullieutenant, was acquainting her with the fact that Mrs Quantock wasplanning a party for Saturday; he did not know how far she had got. Atthat moment she had got just half-way to Old Place, walking at unusualspeed. Lucia grasped the situation with amazing quickness, and cuttingoff Georgie with a snap, she abandoned all idea of her party beingimpromptu, and rang up Olga. She would secure her anyhow....

  The telephone was in the hall, and Olga, with her hat on, was justpreparing to go out, when the bell sounded. The words of gratefulacceptance were on her very lips when her front-door bell rang too,very long and insistently and had hardly left off when it began again.Olga opened the door herself and there was Mrs Quantock on the doorstepwith her invitation for Saturday night. She was obliged to refuse, butpromised to look in, if she was not very late in getting away from MrsLucas's (and pop went the cat out of the bag). Another romp would belovely.

  Already the evils of decentralisation and overlapping were becomingmanifest. Lucia rang up house after house, only to find that itsinhabitants were already engaged. She had got Olga and Georgie, andcould begin the good work of education and the crushing of rivalry, notby force but by pure and refined example, but Mrs Quantock had goteverybody else. In the old days this could never have happened foreverything devolved round one central body. Now with the appearance ofthis other great star, all the known laws of gravity and attractionwere upset.

  Georgie, again summoned to the telephone, recommended an appeal to MrsQuantock's better nature, which Lucia rejected, doubting whether shehad one.

  "But what about the tableaux?" asked Georgie. "We three can't very welldo tableaux for Miss Olga to look at."

  Then Lucia showed herself truly great.

  "The merit of the tableaux does not consist in the number of theaudience," she said.

  She paused a moment.

  "Have you got the Cophetua-robe to set properly?" she asked.

  "Oh, it'll do," said Georgie dejectedly.

  On Tuesday afternoon Olga rang up Lucia again to say that her husbandwas arriving that day, so might she bring him on Saturday? To thisLucia cordially assented, but she felt that a husband and wife sittingtogether and looking at another husband and wife doing tableaux wouldbe an unusual entertainment, and not characteristic of Riseholme'sbest. She began to waver about the tableaux and to consider dinnerinstead. She also wondered whether she had been wronging dear Daisy,and whether she had a better nature after all. Perhaps Georgie mightascertain.

  Georgie was roused from a little fatigued nap by the telephone, for hehad fallen asleep over King Cophetua's robe. Lucia explained thesituation and delicately suggested that it would be so easy for him to"pop in" to dear Daisy's, and be very diplomatic. There was nobody likeGeorgie for tact. So with a heavy yawn he popped in.

  "You've come about this business on Saturday," said Daisy unerringly."Haven't you?"

  Georgie remembered his character for tact.

  "How wonderful of you to guess that!" he said. "I thought we might seeif we couldn't arrange something, if we put our heads together. It'ssuch a pity to split up. We--I mean Lucia has got Miss Olga and herhusband coming, and----"

  "And I've got everybody else," said Daisy brightly. "And Miss Bracelyis coming over here, if she gets away early. Probably with such a smallparty she will."

  "Oh, I shouldn't count on that," said he. "We are having some tableaux,and they always take longer than you think. Dear me, I shouldn't havesaid that, as they were to be impromptu, but I really believe my headis going. You know how thorough Lucia is; she is taking a great deal oftrouble about them."

  "I hadn't heard about that," said Mrs Quantock.

  She thought a moment.

  "Well; I don't want to spoil Lucia's evening," she said, "for I'm surenothing could be so ridiculous as three people doing tableaux for twoothers. And on the other hand, I don't want her to spoil mine, forwhat's to prevent her going on with the tableaux till church-time nextmorning if she wishes to keep Miss Bracely away from my house? I'm sureafter the way she behaved about my Guru---- Well, never mind that. Howwould it be if we had the tableaux first at Lucia's, and then came onhere? If Lucia cares to suggest that to me, and my guests consent, Idon't mind doing that."

  By six o'clock on Tuesday evening therefore all the telephone bells ofRiseholme were merrily ringing again. Mrs Quantock stipulated thatLucia's party should end at 10.45 precisely, if it didn't end before,and that everyone should then be free to flock across to her house. Sheproposed a romp that should even outshine Olga's, and was deep in thestudy of a manual of "Round Games," which included "Hunt theSlipper."...

  Georgie and Peppino took turns at the telephone, ringing up all MrsQuantock's guests, and informing them of the double pleasure whichawaited them on Saturday. Since Georgie had let out the secret of theimpromptu tableaux to Mrs Quantock there was no reason why the rest ofRiseholme should not learn of this firsthand from The Hurst, instead ofsecond-hand (with promises not to repeat it) from Mrs Quantock. Itappeared that she had a better nature than Lucia credited her with,but to expect her not to tell everybody about the tableaux would beputting virtue to an unfair test.

  "So that's all settled," said Georgie, as he returned with the lastacceptance, "and how fortunately it has happened after all. But what aday it has been. Nothing but telephoning from morning till night. If wego on like this the company will pay a dividend this year, and returnus some of our own pennies."

  Lucia had got a quantity of pearl beads and was stringing them for thetableau of Mary Queen of Scots.

  "Now that everyone knows," she said, "we might allow ourselves a littlemore elaboration in our preparations. There is an Elizabethan axe atthe Ambermere Arms which I might borrow for Peppino. Then about theBrunnhilde tableau. It is dawn, is it not? We might have the stagequite dark when the curtain goes up, and turn up a lamp very slowlybehind the scene, so that it shines on my face. A lamp being turned upvery slowly is wonderfully effective. It produces a perfect illusion.Could you manage that with one hand and play the music of the awakeningwith the other, Georgino?" r />
  "I'm quite sure I couldn't," said he.

  "Well then Peppino must do it before he comes on. We will have movementin this tableau; I think that will be quite a new idea. Peppino shallcome in--just two steps--when he has turned the lamp up, and he willtake off my shield and armour----"

  "But the music will never last out," cried Georgie. "I shall have tostart earlier."

  "Yes, perhaps that would be better," said Lucia calmly. "That realpiece of chain-armour too, I am glad I remembered Peppino had that.Marshall is cleaning it now, and it will give a far finer effect thanthe tawdry stuff they use in opera. Then I sit up very slowly, and wavefirst my right arm and then my left, and then both. I should like topractise that now on the sofa!"

  Lucia had just lain down, when the telephone sounded again and Georgiegot up.

  "That's to announce a dividend," he said, and tripped into the hall.

  "Is that Mrs Lucas'?" said a voice he knew.

  "Yes, Miss Olga," he said, "and this is me."

  "Oh, Mr Georgie, how fortunate," she said. "You can give my message nowto Mrs Lucas, can't you? I'm a perfect fool, you know, and horriblyforgetful."

  "What's the matter?" asked Georgie faintly.

  "It's about Saturday. I've just remembered that Georgie and I--not you,you know--are going away for the weekend. Will you tell Mrs Lucas howsorry I am?"

  Georgie went back to the music room, where Lucia had just got both herarms waving. But at the sight of his face she dropped them and took afirm hold of herself.

  "Well, what is it?" she said.

  Georgie gave the message, and she got off the sofa, rising to her feet,while her mind rose to the occasion.

  "I am sorry that Miss Bracely will not see our tableaux," she said."But as she was not acting in them I do not know that it makes muchdifference."

  A deadly flatness, although Olga's absence made no difference,descended on the three. Lucia did not resume her arm-work, for afterall these years her acting might be supposed to be good enough forRiseholme without further practice, and nothing more was heard of theborrowing of the axe from the Ambermere Arms. But having begun tothread her pearl-beads, she finished them; Georgie, however, cared nolonger whether the gold border of King Cophetua's mantle went quiteround the back or not, and having tacked on the piece he was workingat, rolled it up. It was just going to be an ordinary party, after all.His cup was empty.

  But Lucia's was not yet quite full, for at this moment Miss Lyall'spony hip-bath stopped at the gate, and a small stableboy presented anote, which required an answer. In spite of all Lucia's self-control,the immediate answer it got was a flush of heightened colour.

  "Mere impertinence," she said. "I will read it aloud."

  "Dear Mrs Lucas,

  "I was in Riseholme this morning, and learn from Mrs Weston that Miss Bracely will be at your house on Saturday night. So I shall be enchanted to come to dinner after all. You must know that I make a rule of not going out in the evening, except for some special reason, but it would be a great pleasure to hear her sing again. I wonder if you would have dinner at 7:30 instead of 8, as I do not like being out very late."

  There was a short pause.

  _"Caro,"_ said Lucia, trembling violently, "perhaps you wouldkindly tell Miss Lyall that I do not expect Miss Bracely on Saturday,and that I do not expect Lady Ambermere either."

  "My dear--" he began.

  "I will do it myself then," she said.

  It was as Georgie walked home after the delivery of this message thathe wanted to fly away and be at rest with Foljambe and Dicky. He hadbeen frantically excited ever since Sunday at the idea of doingtableaux before Olga, and today in especial had been a mere feverishhash of telephoning and sewing which all ended in nothing at all, forneither tableaux nor romps seemed to hold the least attraction for himnow that Olga was not going to be there. And then all at once it dawnedon him that he must be in love with Olga, for why else should herpresence or absence make such an astounding difference to him? Hestopped dead opposite Mrs Quantock's mulberry tree.

  "More misery! More unhappiness!" he said to himself. Really if life atRiseholme was to become a series of agitated days ending in devastatingdiscoveries, the sooner he went away with Foljambe and Dicky thebetter. He did not quite know what it was like to be in love, for thenearest he had previously ever got to it was when he saw Olga awake onthe mountain-top and felt that he had missed his vocation in not beingSiegfried, but from that he guessed. This time, too, it was about Olga,not about her as framed in the romance of legend and song, but of heras she appeared at Riseholme, taking as she did now, an ecstaticinterest in the affairs of the place. So short a time ago, when shecontemplated coming here first, she had spoken of it as a lazybackwater. Now she knew better than that, for she could listen to MrsWeston far longer than anybody else, and ask for more histories wheneven she had run dry. And yet Lucia seemed hardly to interest her atall. Georgie wondered why that was.

  He raised his eyes as he muttered these desolated syllables and therewas Olga just letting herself out of the front garden of the Old Place.Georgie's first impulse was to affect not to see her, and turn into hisbachelor house, but she had certainly seen him, and made so shrill andpiercing a whistle on her fingers that, pretend as he would not to haveseen her, it was ludicrous to appear not to have heard her. Shebeckoned to him.

  "Georgie, the most awful thing has happened," she said, as they camewithin speaking distance. "Oh, I called you Georgie by mistake then.When one once does that, one must go on doing it on purpose. Guess!"she said in the best Riseholme manner.

  "You can come to Lucia's party after all," said he.

  "No, I can't. Well, you'll never guess because you move in such highcircles, so I'll tell you. Mrs Weston's Elizabeth is going to bemarried to Colonel Boucher's Atkinson. I don't know his Christian name,nor her surname, but they're the ones!"

  "You don't say so!" said Georgie, stung for a moment out of his owntroubles. "But will they both leave? What will either of the others do?Mrs Weston can't have a manservant, and how on earth is she to get onwithout Elizabeth? Besides----"

  A faint flush mounted to his cheek.

  "I know. You mean babies," said Olga ruthlessly. "Didn't you?"

  "Yes," said Georgie.

  "Then why not say so? You and I were babies once, though no one is oldenough to remember that, and we shouldn't have liked our parents andfriends to have blushed when they mentioned us. Georgie, you are aprude."

  "No, I'm not," said Georgie, remembering he was probably in love with amarried woman.

  "It doesn't matter whether you are or not. Now there's only one thingthat can happen to Mrs Weston and the Colonel. They must marry eachother too. Then Atkinson can continue to be Colonel Boucher's man andElizabeth the parlour-maid, unless she is busy with what made youblush. Then they can get help in; you will lend them Foljambe, forinstance. It's time you began to be of some good in your wicked selfishlife. So that's settled. It only remains for us to make them marry eachother."

  "Aren't you getting on rather fast?" asked Georgie.

  "I'm not getting on at all at present I'm only talking. Come into myhouse instantly, and we'll drink vermouth. Vermouth always makes mebrilliant unless it makes me idiotic, but we'll hope for the best."

  Presently they were seated in Olga's music-room, with a bottle ofvermouth between them.

  "Now drink fair, Georgie," she said, "and as you drink tell me allabout the young people's emotional history."

  "Atkinson and Elizabeth?" asked Georgie.

  "No, my dear; Colonel Boucher and Mrs Weston. They have an emotionalhistory. I am sure you all thought they were going to marry each otheronce. And they constantly dine together tete-a-tete. Now that's a verygood start. Are you quite sure he hasn't got a wife and family in Egypt,or she a husband and family somewhere else? I don't want to rake upfamily skeletons."

  "I've never heard of them," said Georgie.

  "Then we'll take them as non-existent. You certainly wou
ld have heardof them if there were any, and very likely if there weren't. And theyboth like eating, drinking and the latest intelligence. Don't they?"

  "Yes. But----"

  "But what? What more do you or they want? Isn't that a better start formarried life than many people get?"

  "But aren't they rather old?" asked Georgie.

  "Not much older than you and me, and if it wasn't that I've got my ownGeorgie, I would soon have somebody else's. Do you know who I mean?"

  "No!" said Georgie firmly. Though all this came at the end of a mostharrowing day, it or the vermouth exhilarated him.

  "Then I'll tell you just what Mrs Weston told me. 'He's always beendevoted to Lucia,' said Mrs Weston, 'and he has never looked at anybodyelse. There was Piggy Antrobus----' Now do you know who I mean?"

  Georgie suddenly giggled.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Then don't talk about yourself so much, my dear, and let us get to thepoint. Now this afternoon I dropped in to see Mrs Weston and as she wastelling me about the tragedy, she said by accident (just as I calledyou Georgie just now by accident) 'And I don't know what Jacob will dowithout Atkinson.' Now is or is not Colonel Boucher's name Jacob? Thereyou are then! That's one side of the question. She called him Jacob byaccident and so she'll call him Jacob on purpose before very long."

  Olga nodded her head up and down in precise reproduction of Mrs Weston.

  "I'd hardly got out of the house," she said in exact imitation of MrsWeston's voice, "before I met Colonel Boucher. It would have been aboutthree o'clock--no it couldn't have been three, because I had got backhome and was standing in the hall when it struck three, and my clock'sa shade fast if anything. Well; Colonel Boucher said to me, 'Haw, hum,quite a domestic crisis, by Jove.' And so I pretended I didn't know,and he told me all about it. So I said 'Well, it is a domestic crisis,and you'll lose Atkinson.' 'Haw, hum,' said he, 'and poor Jane, Ishould say, Mrs Weston, will lose Elizabeth.' There!"

  She got up and lit a cigarette.

  "Oh, Georgie, do you grasp the inwardness of that?" she said. "Theirdear old hearts were laid bare by the trouble that had come upon them,and each of them spoke of the other, as each felt for the other.Probably neither of them had said Jacob or Jane in the whole course oftheir lives. But the Angel of the Lord descended and troubled thewaters. If you think that's profane, have some more vermouth. It'smaking me brilliant, though you wouldn't have thought it. Now listen!"

  She sat down again close to him, her face brimming with a humorousenthusiasm. Humour in Riseholme was apt to be a little unkind; if youmentioned the absurdities of your friends, there was just a speck ofmalice in your wit. But with her there was none of that, she gave animitation of Mrs Weston with the most ruthless fidelity, and yet it waskindly to the bottom. She liked her for talking in that emphatic voiceand being so particular as to what time it was. "Now first of all youare coming to dine with me tonight," said Olga.

  "Oh, I'm afraid that tonight----" began Georgie, shrinking from anyfurther complications. He really must have a quiet evening, and go tobed very early.

  "What are you afraid of tonight?" she asked. "You're only going to washyour hair. You can do that tomorrow. So you and I, that's two, and MrsWeston and Colonel Jacob, that's four, which is enough, and I don'tbelieve there's anything to eat in the house. But there's something todrink, which is my point. Not for you and me, mind; we've got to keepour heads and be clever. Don't have any more vermouth. But Jane andJacob are going to have quantities of champagne. Not tipsy, youunderstand, but at their best, and unguardedly appreciative of eachother and us. And when they go away, they will exchange a chaste kissat Mrs Weston's door, and she will ask him in. No! I think she'll askhim in first. And when they wake up tomorrow morning, they will bothwonder how they could possibly, and jointly ask themselves whateverybody else will say. And then they'll thank God and Olga andGeorgie that they did, and live happily for an extraordinary number ofyears. My dear, how infinitely happier they will be together than theyare being now. Funny old dears! Each at its own fireside, saying thatit's too old, bless them! And you and I will sing 'Voice that breathedo'er Eden' and in the middle our angel-voices will crack, and we willsob into our handkerchief, and Eden will be left breathing deeply allby itself like the Guru. Why did you never tell me about the Guru? MrsWeston's a better friend to me than you are, and I must ring for mycook--no I'll telephone first to Jacob and Jane--and see what there isto eat afterwards. You will sit here quietly, and when I have finishedI will tell you what your part is."

  During dinner, according to Olga's plan of campaign, the conversationwas to be general, because she hated to have two conversations going onwhen only four people were present, since she found that she alwayswanted to join in the other one. This was the main principle sheinculcated on Georgie, stamping it on his memory by a simile ofpeculiar vividness. "Imagine there is an Elizabethan spittoon in themiddle of the table," she said, "and keep on firmly spitting into it. Iwant you when there's any pause to spit about two things, one, howdreadfully unhappy both Jacob and Jane will be without their paragons,the other, how pleasant is conversation and companionship. I shall bechaffing you, mind, all the time and saying _you_ must getmarried. After dinner I shall probably stroll in the garden with Jacob.Don't come. Keep him after dinner for some little time, for then's myopportunity of talking to Jane, and give him at least three glasses ofport. Gracious it's time to dress, and the Lord prosper us."

  Georgie found himself the last to arrive, when he got back to Olga'sand all three of them shook hands rather as people shake hands before afuneral. They went into dinner at once and Olga instantly began, "Howmany years did you say your admirable Atkinson had been with you?" sheasked Colonel Boucher.

  "Twenty; getting on for twenty-one," said he. "Great nuisance; 'pon myword it's worse than a nuisance."

  Georgie had a bright idea.

  "But what's a nuisance, Colonel?" he asked.

  "Eh, haven't you heard? I thought it would have been all over the placeby now. Atkinson's going to be married."

  "No!" said Georgie. "Whom to?"

  Mrs Weston could not bear not to announce this herself. "To myElizabeth," she said. "Elizabeth came to me this morning. 'May I speakto you a minute, ma'am?' she asked, and I thought nothing more thanthat perhaps she had broken a tea-cup. 'Yes,' said I quite cheerfully,'and what have you come to tell me?'"

  It was getting almost too tragic and Olga broke in.

  "Let's try to forget all about it, for an hour or two," she said. "Itwas nice of you all to take pity on me and come and have dinner,otherwise I should have been quite alone. If there's one thing I cannotbear it's being alone in the evening. And to think that anybody choosesto be alone when he needn't! Look at that wretch there," and shepointed to Georgie, "who lives all by himself instead of marrying.Liking to be alone is the worst habit I know; much worse than drink."

  "Now do leave me alone," said Georgie.

  "I won't, my dear, and when dinner is over Mrs Weston and I are goingto put our heads together, and when you come out we shall announce toyou the name of your bride. I should put a tax of twenty shillings onthe pound on all bachelors; they should all marry or starve."

  Suddenly she turned to Colonel Boucher.

  "Oh, Colonel," she said. "What have I been saying? How dreadfullystupid of me not to remember that you were a bachelor too. But Iwouldn't have you starve for anything. Have some more fish instantly toshew you forgive me. Georgie change the subject you're always talkingabout yourself."

  Georgie turned with admirable docility to Mrs Weston.

  "It's too miserable for you," he said. "How will you get on withoutElizabeth? How long has she been with you?"

  Mrs Weston went straight back to where she had left off.

  "So I said, 'What have you come to tell me?' quite cheerfully, thinkingit was a tea-cup. And she said, 'I'm going to be married, ma'am,' and sheblushed so prettily that you'd have thought she was a girl of twenty,though she was seventeen when she came to m
e,--no, she was justeighteen, and that's fifteen years ago, and that makes herthirty-three. 'Well, Elizabeth,' I said, 'you haven't told me yetwho it is, but whether it's the Archbishop of Canterbury or the Princeof Wales--for I felt I had to make a little joke like that--I hopeyou'll make him as happy as you've made me all these years.'"

  "You old darling," said Olga. "I should have gone into hysterics, andforbade the banns."

  "No, Miss Bracely, you wouldn't," said Mrs Weston, "you'd have beenjust as thankful as me, that she'd got a good husband to take care ofand to be taken care of by, because then she said, 'Lor ma'am, it'snone of they--not them great folks. It's the Colonel's Atkinson.' Youask the Colonel for Atkinson's character, Miss Bracely, and then you'dbe just as thankful as I was."

  "The Colonel's Atkinson is a slow coach, just like Georgie," said Olga."He and Elizabeth have been living side by side all these years, andwhy couldn't the man make up his mind before? The only redeemingcircumstance is that he has done it now. Our poor Georgie now--"

  "Now you're going to be rude to Colonel Boucher again," said Georgie."Colonel, we've been asked here to be insulted."

  Colonel Boucher had nothing stronger than a mild tolerance for Georgieand rather enjoyed snubbing him.

  "Well, if you call a glass of wine and a dinner like this an insult,"he said, "'pon my word I don't know what you'd call a compliment."

  "I know what I call a compliment," said Olga, "and that's your allcoming to dine with me at such short notice. About Georgie'sapproaching nuptials now--"

  "You're too tarsome" said he. "If you go on like that, I shan't ask youto the wedding. Let's talk about Elizabeth's. When are they going toget married, Mrs Weston?"

  "That's what I said to Elizabeth. 'Get an almanack, Elizabeth,' said I,'so that you won't choose a Sunday. Don't say the 20th of next monthwithout looking it out. But if the 20th isn't a Sunday or a Fridaymind, for though I don't believe in such things, still you neverknow--' There was Mrs Antrobus now," said Mrs Weston suddenly, puttingin a footnote to her speech to Elizabeth, "it was on a Friday shemarried, and within a year she got as deaf as you see her now. Then MrWeston's uncle, his uncle by marriage I should say, he was another Fridaymarriage and they missed their train when going off on their honeymoon,and had to stay all night where they were without a sponge or a toothbrush between them, for all their luggage was in the train beingwhirled away to Torquay. 'So make it the 20th, Elizabeth,' I said, 'ifit isn't a Friday or a Sunday, and I shall have time to look round me,and so will the Colonel, though I don't expect that either of us willfind your equals! And don't cry, Elizabeth,' I said, for she wasgetting quite watery, 'for if you cry about a marriage, what'll be leftfor a funeral?'"

  "Ha! Upon my word, I call that splendid of you," said the Colonel. "Itold Atkinson I wished I had never set eyes on him, before I wished himjoy."

  Olga got up.

  "Look after Colonel Boucher, Georgie," she said, "and ring for anythingyou want. Look at the moon! Isn't it heavenly. How Atkinson andElizabeth must be enjoying it."

  The two men spent a half-hour of only moderately enjoyableconversation, for Georgie kept the grindstone of the misery of his lotwithout Atkinson, and the pleasure of companionship firmly to theColonel's nose. It was no use for him to attempt to change the subjectto the approaching tableaux, to a vague rumour that Piggy had fallenface downwards in the ducking-pond, that Mrs Quantock and her husbandhad turned a table this afternoon with remarkable results, for it hadtapped out that his name was Robert and hers Daisy. Whichever way heturned, Georgie herded him back on to the stony path that he had beenbidden to take, with the result that when Georgie finally permitted himto go into the music-room, he was athirst for the more genialcompanionship of the ladies. Olga got up as they entered.

  "Georgie's so lazy," she said, "that it's no use asking him. But do letyou and me have a turn up and down my garden, Colonel. There's a divinemoon and it's quite warm."

  They stepped out into the windless night.

  "Fancy it's being October," she said. "I don't believe there is anywinter in Riseholme, nor autumn either, for that matter. You are all soyoung, so deliciously young. Look at Georgie in there: he's like a boystill, and as for Mrs Weston, she's twenty-five: not a day older."

  "Yes, wonderful woman," said he. "Always agreeable and lively.Handsome, too: I consider Mrs Weston a very handsome woman. Hasn'taltered an atom since I knew her."

  "That's the wonderful thing about you all!" said she. "You are all justas brisk and young as you were ten years ago. It's ridiculous. As foryou, I'm not sure that you're not the most ridiculous of the lot. Ifeel as if I had been having dinner with three delightful cousins alittle younger--not much, but just a little--than myself. Gracious! Howyou all made me romp the other night here. What a pace you go, Colonel!What's your walking like if you call this a stroll?"

  Colonel Boucher moderated his pace. He thought Olga had been walking soquickly.

  "I'm very sorry," he said. "Certainly Riseholme is a healthy bracingplace. Perhaps we do keep our youth pretty well. God bless me, but thedays go by without one's noticing them. To think that I came here withAtkinson close on ten years ago."

  This did very well for Olga: she swiftly switched off onto it.

  "It's quite horrid for you losing your servant," she said. "Servants dobecome friends, don't they, especially to anyone living alone. Georgieand Foljambe, now! But I shouldn't be a bit surprised if Foljambe had amistress before very long."

  "No, really? I thought you were just chaffing him at dinner. Georgiemarrying, is he? His wife'll take some of his needlework off his hands.May I--ah--may I enquire the lady's name?"

  Olga decided to play a great card. She had just found it, so to speak,in her hand, and it was most tempting. She stopped.

  "But can't you guess?" she said. "Surely I'm not absolutely on thewrong track?"

  "Ah, Miss Antrobus," said he. "The one I think they call Piggy. No, Ishould say there was nothing in that."

  "Oh, that had never occurred to me," said she. "I daresay I'm quitewrong. I only judged from what I thought I noticed in poor Georgie. Idaresay it's only what he should have done ten years ago, but I fancythere's a spark alive still. Let us talk about something else, thoughwe won't go in quite yet, shall we?" She felt quite safe in herapparent reluctance to tell him; the Riseholme gluttony for news madeit imperative for him to ask more.

  "Really, I must be very dull," he said. "I daresay an eye new to theplace sees more. Who is it, Miss Bracely?"

  She laughed.

  "Ah, how bad a man is at observing a man!" she said. "Didn't you seeGeorgie at dinner? He hardly took his eyes off her."

  She had a great and glorious reward. Colonel Boucher's face grewabsolutely blank in the moonlight with sheer astonishment.

  "Well, you surprise me," he said. "Surely a fine woman, though lame,wouldn't look at a needle-woman--well, leave it at that."

  He stamped his feet and put his hands in his pockets.

  "It's growing a bit chilly," he said. "You'll be catching cold, MissBracely, and what will your husband say if he finds out I've beenstrolling about with you out of doors after dinner?"

  "Yes, we'll go in," she said. "It is chilly. How thoughtful you are forme."

  Georgie little knowing the catspaw that had been made of him, foundhimself being detached from Mrs Weston by the Colonel, and this suitedhim very well, for presently Olga said she would sing, unless anybodyminded, and called on him to accompany her. She stood just behind him,leaning over him sometimes with a hand on his shoulder, and sang threeruthless simple English songs, appropriate to the matter in hand. Shesang, "I Attempt from Love's Sickness to Fly," and "Sally in OurAlley," and "Come Live with Me," and sometimes beneath the rustle ofleaves turned over she whispered to him, "Georgie, I'm cleverer thananybody ever was, and I shall die in the night," she said once. Againmore enigmatically she said, "I've been a cad, but I'll tell you aboutit when they've gone. Stop behind." And then some whiskey came in, andshe insisted on the "young
people" having some of that; finally she sawthem off at the door, and came running back to Georgie. "I've been acad," she said, "because I hinted that you were in love with MrsWeston. My dear, it was simply perfect! I believe it to have been thelast straw, and if you don't forgive me you needn't. Wasn't it clever?He simply couldn't stand that, for it came on the top of your being soyoung."

  "Well, really--" said Georgie.

  "I know. And I must be a cad again. I'm going up to my bedroom, you maycome, too, if you like, because it commands a view of Church Road. Ishouldn't sleep a wink unless I knew that he had gone in with her.It'll be precisely like Faust and Marguerite going into the house, andyou and I are Mephistopheles and Martha. Come quick!"

  From the dark of the window they watched Mrs Weston's bath-chair beingpushed up the lit road.

  "It's the Colonel pushing it," whispered Olga, squeezing him into acorner of the window. "Look! There's Tommy Luton on the path. Nowthey've stopped at her gate ... I can't bear the suspense.... Oh,Georgie, they've gone in! And Atkinson will stop, and so willElizabeth, and you've promised to lend them Foljambe. Which house willthey live at, do you think? Aren't you happy?"