Queen Lucia Page 7

  Chapter SEVEN

  A fresh thrill went through an atmosphere already super-saturated withexcitement, when next morning all Lucia's friends who had been biddento the garden-party (Tightum) were rung up on the telephone andinformed that the party was Hightum. That caused a good deal of extrawork, because the Tightum robes had to be put away again, and theHightums aired and brushed and valetted. But it was well worth it, forRiseholme had not the slightest difficulty in conjecturing that OlgaBracely was to be among the guests. For a cultured and artistic centrethe presence of a star that blazed so regally in the very zenith of thefirmament of art absolutely demanded the Hightum which the presence ofpoor Lady Ambermere (though she would not have liked that) had beenpowerless to bring out of their cupboards. And these delightfulanticipations concentrated themselves into one rose-coloured point ofjoy, when no less than two independent observers, without collusion,saw the piano-tuner either entering or leaving The Hurst, while athird, an ear-witness, unmistakably heard the tuning of the pianoactually going on. It was thus clear to all penetrating minds that OlgaBracely was going to sing. It was further known that something wasgoing on between her and Georgie, for she had been heard by one MissAntrobus to ask for Georgie's number at the telephone in the AmbermereArms. Etiquette forbade her actually to listen to what passed, but shecould not help hearing Olga laugh at something (presumably) thatGeorgie said. He himself took no part in the green-parliament thatmorning, but had been seen to dash into the fruiterer's and out again,before he went in a great hurry to The Hurst, shortly aftertwelve-thirty. Classes on Eastern philosophy under the tuition ofMrs Quantock's Indian, were already beginning to be hinted at, buttoday in the breathless excitement about the prima-donna nobody caredabout that; they might all have been taking lessons in cannibalism,and nobody would have been interested. Finally about one o'clock oneof the motors in which the party had arrived yesterday drew up at thedoor of the Ambermere Arms, and presently Mr Bracely,--no, dear, MrShuttleworth got in and drove off alone. That was very odd conduct in alately-married bridegroom, and it was hoped that there had been noquarrel.

  Olga had, of course, been given no directions as to Hightum or Tightum,and when she walked across to Georgie's house shortly after half-pastone only Mrs Weston who was going back home to lunch at top speed wasaware that she was dressed in a very simple dark blue morning frock,that would almost have passed for Scrub. It is true that it wasexceedingly well cut, and had not the look of having been rolled up ina ball and hastily ironed out again that usually distinguished Scrub,and she also wore a string of particularly fine pearls round her neck,the sort of ornament that in Riseholme would only be seen in anevening Hightum, even if anybody in Riseholme had owned such things.Lucia, not long ago had expressed the opinion that jewels were vulgarexcept at night, and for her part she wore none at all, preferring oneGreek cameo of uncertain authenticity.

  Georgie received Olga alone, for Hermy and Ursy were not yet back fromtheir golf.

  "It is good of you to let me come without my husband," she said. "Hisexcuse is toothache and he has driven into Brinton--"

  "I'm very sorry," said Georgie.

  "You needn't be, for now I'll tell you his real reason. He thought thatif he lunched with you he would have to come on to the garden party,and that he was absolutely determined not to do. You were the thin edgeof the wedge, in fact. My dear, what a delicious house. All panelled,with that lovely garden behind. And croquet--may we play croquet afterlunch? I always try to cheat, and if I'm found out I lose my temper.Georgie won't play with me, so I play with my maid."

  "This Georgie will," said he.

  "How nice of him! And do you know what we did this morning, before thetoothache didn't begin? We went all over that house three doors away,which is being done up. It belongs to the proprietor of the AmbermereArms. And--oh, I wonder if you can keep a secret?"

  "Yes," said Georgie. He probably had never kept one yet, but there wasno reason why he shouldn't begin now.

  "Well, I'm absolutely determined to buy it, only I daren't tell myhusband until I've done it. He has an odd nature. When a thing is done,settled, and there's no help for it, he finds it adorable, but he alsofinds fatal objections to doing it at all, if he is consulted about itbefore it is done. So not a word! I shall buy it, make the garden,furnish it, down to the minutest detail, and engage the servants, andthen he'll give it me for a birthday present. I had to tell somebody orI should burst."

  Georgie nearly swooned with fervour and admiration.

  "But what a perfect plan!" he said. "You really like our littleRiseholme?"

  "It's not a question of liking; it's a mere detail of not being able todo without it. I don't like breathing, but I should die if I didn't. Iwant some delicious, hole-in-the-corner, lazy backwater sort of place,where nothing ever happens, and nobody ever does anything. I've beenobserving all the morning, and your habits are adorable. Nothing everhappens here, and that will precisely suit me, when I get away from mywork."

  Georgie was nearer swooning than ever at this. He could hardly believehis ears when she talked of Riseholme being a lazy backwater, andalmost thought she must have been speaking of London, where, as Luciahad acutely observed, people sat in the Park all morning and talked ofeach other's affairs, and spent the afternoon at picture-galleries, anddanced all night. There was a flippant, lazy existence.

  But she was far too much absorbed in her project to notice hisstupefaction.

  "But if you breathe a word," she said, "everything will be spoilt. Ithas to burst on Georgie. Oh, and there's another mulberry-tree in yourgarden as well as the one in front. It's too much."

  Her eyes followed Foljambe out of the door.

  "And I know your parlour-maid is called Paravicini or Grosvenor," shesaid.

  "No, she is Foljambe," said Georgie.

  She laughed.

  "I knew I was right," she said. "It's practically the same thing. Oh,and last night! I never had such an awful evening. Why didn't you warnme, and my husband should have had toothache then instead of thismorning."

  "What happened?" asked he.

  "But the woman's insane, that Ambermere parrot, I mean. Georgie and Iwere ten minutes late, and she had a jet tiara on, and why did she askus to dine at a quarter to eight, if she meant a quarter to eight,instead of saying half-past-seven? They were actually going into dinnerwhen we came, a mournful procession of three moth-eaten men and threewhiskered women. Upon which the procession broke up, as if we had beenthe riot act, and was arranged again, as a funeral procession, andGeorgie with Lady Ambermere was the hearse. We dined in the familyvault and talked about Lady Ambermere's pug. She talked about you, too,and said you were of county family, and that Mrs Lucas was a verydecent sort of woman, and that she herself was going to look in on hergarden-party today. Then she looked at my pearls, and asked if theywere genuine. So I looked at her teeth, and there was no need to askabout them."

  "Don't miss out a moment," said Georgie greedily.

  "Whenever Lady Ambermere spoke, everybody else was silent. I didn'tgrasp that at first, for no one had explained the rules. So she stoppedin the middle of a sentence and waited till I had finished. Then shewent on again, precisely where she had left off. Then when we came intothe drawing room, the whiskered ladies and I, there a little woman likea mouse sitting there, and nobody introduced her. So naturally I wentto talk to her, before which the great parrot said, 'Will you kindlyfetch my wool-work, Miss Lyall?' and Miss Lyall took a sack out of thecorner, and inside was the sacred carpet. And then I waited for somecoffee and cigarettes, and I waited, and I waited, and I am waitingstill. The Parrot said that coffee always kept her awake, and that waswhy. And then Georgie came in with the others, and I could see by hisface that he hadn't had a cigarette either. It was then half-past nine.And then each man sat down between two women, and Pug sat in the middleand looked for fleas. Then Lady Ambermere got up, and came across thecharmed circle to me. She said: 'I hope you have brought your music,Mrs Shuttleworth. Kindly open the pia
no, Miss Lyall. It was alwaysconsidered a remarkably fine instrument.'"

  Olga waved the fork on which was impaled a piece of the pineapple whichGeorgie had purchased that morning at the fruiterer's.

  "The stupendous cheek!" she said. "I thought it must be a joke, andlaughed with the greatest politeness. But it wasn't! You'll hardlybelieve it, but it wasn't! One of the whiskered ones said, That will bea great treat,' and another put on the face that everyone wears atconcerts. And I was so stunned that I sang, and Lady Ambermere beattime, and Pug barked."

  She pointed a finger at Georgie.

  "Never till the day of judgment," she said, "when Lady Ambermeregnashes her beautiful teeth for ever and ever, will I set foot in thathouse again. Nor she in my house. I will set fire to it sooner. There!My dear, what a good lunch you have given me. May we play croquet atonce?"

  Lucia's garden-parties were scheduled from four to seven andhalf-an-hour before the earliest guest might be expected, she wascasting an eagle eye over the preparations which today were on a verysumptuous scale. The bowls were laid out in the bowling alley, notbecause anybody in Hightums dresses was the least likely to risk thestooping down and the strong movements that the game entailed, butbecause bowls were Elizabethan. Between the alley and the lawn nearerto the house was a large marquee, where the commoner crowd--though nocrowd could be really common in Riseholme--would refresh itself. Buteven where none are common there may still be degrees in rarity, and bythe side of this general refreshment room was a smaller tent carpetedwith Oriental rugs, and having inside it some half-dozen chairs, and twoseats which can only be described as thrones, for Lady Ambermere or OlgaBracely, while Lucia's Guru, though throneworthy, would very kindly sitin one of his most interesting attitudes on the floor. This tent wasdesigned only for high converse, and common guests (if they were good)would be led into it and introduced to the great presences, while forthe refreshment of the presences, in intervals of audience, a moreelaborate meal, with peaches and four sorts of sandwiches was laid inthe smoking-parlour. Thus those guests for whom audiences were notprovided, could have the felicity of seeing the great ones pass acrossthe lawn on their excursions for food, and possibly trip over thecroquet hoops, which had been left up to give an air of naturalness tothe lawn. In the smoking-parlour an Elzevir or two were leftnegligently open, as if Mr and Mrs Lucas had been reading the works ofPersius and Juvenal when the first guests arrived. In the music-room,finally, which was not usually open on these occasions, there werefresh flowers: the piano, too, was open, and if you had not seen theElzevirs in the smoking-parlour, it would have been reasonable for theearly guests, if they penetrated here, to imagine that Mrs Lucas hadbeen running over the last act of Siegfried a minute before.

  In this visit of final inspection Lucia was accompanied by her Guru,for he was part of the domestic _dramatis personae_, and shewanted him to be "discovered" in the special tent. She pointed out thesite of his proposed "discovery" to him.

  "Probably the first person I shall bring in here," she said, "will beLady Ambermere, for she is noted for her punctuality. She is so anxiousto see you, and would it not be exciting if you found you had metbefore? Her husband was Governor of Madras, and she spent many years inIndia."

  "Madras, gracious lady?" asked the Guru. "I, too, know Madras: thereare many dark spirits in Madras. And she was at English Residency?"

  "Yes. She says Mr Kipling knows nothing about India. You and she willhave much to talk about. I wish I could sit on the floor, too, andlisten to what you say to each other."

  "It will be great treat," said the Guru thoughtfully, "I love all wholove my wonderful country."

  Suddenly he stopped, and put his hands up to his head, palms outward.

  "There are wonderful vibrations today," he said. "All day I feel thatsome word is on way from the Guides, some great message of light."

  "Oh, wouldn't it be wonderful if it came to you in the middle of mygarden party?" said Lucia enthusiastically.

  "Ah, gracious lady, the great word comes not so. It comes always insolitude and quiet. Gracious lady knows that as well as Guru."

  Pure Guruism and social pre-eminence struggled together in Lucia.Guruism told her that she ought to be ecstatic at the idea of a greatmessage coming and should instantly smile on his desire for solitudeand quiet, while social pre-eminence whispered to her that she hadalready dangled the presence of a high-caste mystic from Benares beforethe eyes of Lady Ambermere, who only came from Madras. On the otherhand Olga Bracely was to be an even more resplendent guest than eitherLady Ambermere or the Guru; surely Olga Bracely was enough to set thisparticular garden-party on the giddiest of pinnacles. And an awfulconsequence lurked as a possibility if she attempted to force her Gurunot to immune himself in solitude and quiet, which was that conceivablyhe might choose to go back to the pit whence he was digged, namely thehouse of poor Daisy Quantock. The thought was intolerable, for with himin her house, she had seen herself as dispenser of Eastern Mysteries,and Mistress of Omism to Riseholme. In fact the Guru was her Auguststunt; it would never do to lose him before the end of July, and rageto see all Riseholme making pilgrimages to Daisy. There was athin-lipped firmness, too, about him at this moment: she felt thatunder provocation he might easily defy or desert her. She felt she hadto yield, and so decided to do so in the most complete manner.

  "Ah, yes," she said. "I know how true that is. Dear Guru, go up toHamlet: no one will disturb you there. But if the message comes throughbefore Lady Ambermere goes away, promise me you will come back."

  He went back to the house, where the front door was already open toadmit Lady Ambermere, who was telling "her people" when to come backfor her, and fled with the heels of his slippers tapping on the oakstairs up to Hamlet. Softly he shut out the dark spirits from Madras,and made himself even more secure by turning the key in his door. Itwould never do to appear as a high caste Brahmin from Benares beforeanyone who knew India with such fatal intimacy, for he might notentirely correspond with her preconceived notions of such a person.

  Lady Ambermere's arrival was soon followed by that of other guests, andinstead of going into the special tent reserved for the lions, she tookup a commanding position in the middle of the lawn, where she couldexamine everybody through her tortoiseshell handled lorgnette. She keptPeppino by her, who darted forward to shake hands with his wife'sguests, and then darted back again to her. Poor Miss Lyall stood behindher chair, and from time to time as ordered, gave her a cape, or put upher parasol, or adjusted her footstool for her, or took up Pug or puthim down as her patroness required. Most of the time Lady Ambermerekept up a majestic monologue.

  "You have a pretty little garden here, Mr Lucas," she said, "thoughperhaps inconveniently small. Your croquet lawn does not look to me thefull size, and then there is no tennis-court. But I think you have alittle strip of grass somewhere, which you use for bowls, have you not?Presently I will walk around with you and see your domain. Put Pug downagain, please, Miss Lyall, and let him run about. See, he wants to playwith one of those croquet balls. Put it in motion for him, and he willrun with it. Bless me, who is that coming up the path at such atremendous speed in a bath-chair? Oh, I see, it is Mrs Weston. Sheshould not go as fast as that. If Pug was to stray on to the path hewould be run over. Better pick up Pug again, Miss Lyall, till she hasgone by. And here is Colonel Boucher. If he had brought his bull-dogs,I should have asked him to take them away again. I should like a cup oftea, Miss Lyall, with plenty of milk in it, and not too strong. Youknow how I like my tea. And a biscuit or something for Pug, with alittle cream in a saucer or anything that's handy."

  "Won't you come into the smoking-parlour, and have tea there, LadyAmbermere?" asked Peppino.

  "The smoking-parlour?" asked she. "How very strange to lay tea in asmoking-room."

  Peppino explained that nobody had in all probability used thesmoking-parlour to smoke in for five or six years.

  "Oh, if that is so, I will come," said she. "Better bring Pug along,too, Miss Lyall. There is a
croquet-hoop. I am glad I saw it or Ishould have stumbled over it perhaps. Oh, this is the smoking-parlour,is it? Why do you have rushes on the floor? Put Pug in a chair, MissLyall, or he may prick his paws. Books, too, I see. That one lying openis an old one. It is Latin poetry. The library at The Hall is veryfamous for its classical literature. The first Viscount collected it,and it numbers many thousands of volumes."

  "Indeed, it is the most wonderful library," said Peppino. "I can nevertear myself away from it, when I am at The Hall."

  "I do not wonder. I am a great student myself and often spend a morningthere, do I not, Miss Lyall? You should have some new glass put inthose windows, Mr Lucas. On a dark day it must be very difficult tosee here. By the way, your good wife told me that there would probablybe a very remarkable Indian at her party, a Brahmin from Benares, shesaid. I should like to have a talk with him while I am having my tea.Kindly prepare a peach for me, Miss Lyall."

  Peppino had heard about the retirement of the Guru, in consequence of amessage from the Guides being expected, and proceeded to explain thisto Lady Ambermere, who did not take the slightest notice, as she waslooking at the peaches through her lorgnette.

  "That one nearest me looks eatable," she said. "And then I do not seeMiss Olga Bracely, though I distinctly told her I should be here thisafternoon, and she said Mrs Lucas had asked her. She sang to usyesterday evening at The Hall, and very creditably indeed. Her husband,Mr Shuttleworth, is a cousin of the late lord's."

  Lucia had come into the smoking-parlour during this speech, and heardthese fatal words. At the moment she would gladly have recalled herinvitation to Olga Bracely altogether, sooner than have alluded thereinto Mr Bracely. But that was one of the irremediable things of life, andsince it was no use wasting regret on that, she was only the more eagerfor Olga to come, whatever her husband's name was. She braced herselfup to the situation.

  "Peppino, are you looking after Lady Ambermere?" she said. "Dear LadyAmbermere, I hope they are all taking care of you."

  "A very decent peach," said Lady Ambermere. "The south wall of mygarden is covered with them, and they are always of a peculiarlydelicious flavour. The Hall is famed for its peaches. I understood thatMiss Bracely was going to be here, Mrs Lucas. I cannot imagine whatmakes her so late. I was always famed for my punctuality myself. I havefinished my tea."

  The lawn outside was now growing thick with people all in theirHightums, and Lady Ambermere as she emerged from the smoking-parlouragain viewed the scene with marked disfavour. The two Miss Antrobuseshad just arrived, and skipped up to their hostess with pretty cries.

  "We are dreadfully late," said the eldest, "but it was all Piggy'sfault."

  "No, Goosie, it was yours," said the other. "How can you be so naughtyas to say it was mine? Dear Mrs Lucas, what a lovely party it's being,and may we go and play bowls?"

  Lady Ambermere regarded their retreating backs, as they raced off witharms intertwined to the bowling green.

  "And who are those young ladies?" she asked. "And why Piggy and Goosie?Miss Lyall, do not let Pug go to the bowls. They are very heavy."

  Elsewhere Mrs Antrobus was slowly advancing from group to group, withher trumpet violently engaged in receiving refreshment. Butconversation was not quite so varied as usual, for there was anattitude of intense expectation about with regard to the appearance ofMiss Bracely, that made talk rather jerky and unconnective. Then alsoit had gone about that the mysterious Indian, who had been seen now andthen during the last week, was actually staying with Mrs Lucas, and whywas he not here? More unconjecturable yet, though not so thrillinglyinteresting, was the absence of Mr Georgie. What could have happenedto him, that he was not flitting about on his hostess's errands, andbeing the life and soul of the party? It was in vain that Mrs Antrobusplodded on her methodical course, seeking answers to all these riddles,and that Mrs Weston in her swifter progression dashed about in herbath-chair from group to group, wherever people seemed to be talking inan animated manner. She could learn nothing, and Mrs Antrobus couldlearn nothing, in fact the only information to be had on the subjectwas what Mrs Weston herself supplied. She had a very high-colouredhandsome face, and an extremely impressive manner, as if she wasimparting information of the very highest importance. She naturallyspoke in a loud, clear voice, so that she had not got to raise it mucheven when she addressed Mrs Antrobus. Her wealth of discursive detailwas absolutely unrivalled, and she was quite the best observer inRiseholme.

  "The last I saw of Miss Bracely," she said exactly as if she had beentold to describe something on oath in the witness-box, "was a littleafter half-past one today. It must have been after half-past becausewhen I got home it was close on a quarter to two, and I wasn't ahundred yards from my house when I saw her. As soon as I saw her I saidto my gardener boy, Henry Luton, who was pushing me--he's the son ofold Mrs Luton who kept the fish shop, and when she died last year, Ibegan to get my fish from Brinton, for I didn't fancy the look of thenew person who took on the business, and Henry went to live with hisaunt. That was his father's sister, not his mother's, for Mrs Lutonnever had a sister, and no brothers either. Well, I said to Henry, 'Youcan go a bit slower, Henry, as we're late, we're late, and a minute ortwo more doesn't make any difference.' 'No, ma'am,' said Henry touchinghis cap, so we went slower. Miss Bracely was just opposite theducking-pond then, and presently she came out between the elms. Shehad just an ordinary morning frock on; it was dark-blue, about the sameshade as your cape, Mrs Antrobus, or perhaps a little darker, for thesunshine brightened it up. Quite simple it was, nothing grand. And shelooked at the watch on her wrist, and she seemed to me to walk a littlequicker after that, as if she was a bit late, just as I was. But slowerthan I was going, I could not go, for I was crawling along, and beforeshe got off the grass, I had come to the corner of Church Lane, andthough I turned my head round sharp, like that, at the very last moment,so as to catch the last of her, she hadn't more than stepped off thegrass onto the road before the laurestinus at the corner of ColonelBoucher's garden--no, of the Vicar's garden--hid her from me. And ifyou ask me----"

  Mrs Weston stopped for a moment, nodding her head up and down, toemphasize the importance of what she had said, and to raise theexpectations of Mrs Antrobus to the highest pitch, as to what wascoming.

  "And if you ask me where I think she was going and what she was goingto do," she said, "I believe she was going out to lunch and that shewas going to one of those houses there, just across the road, for shemade a bee-line across the green towards them. Well, there are threehouses there: there's Mrs Quantock's, and it couldn't have been that,or else Mrs Quantock would have had some news of her, or ColonelBoucher's, and it wouldn't have been that, for the Colonel would havehad news of her, and we all know whose the third house just there is."

  Mrs Antrobus had not completely followed this powerful reasoning.

  "But Colonel Boucher and Mrs Quantock are both here, eh?" said she.

  Mrs Weston raised her voice a little.

  "That's what I'm saying," she announced, "but who isn't here whom weshould expect to see, and where's his house?"

  It was generally felt that Mrs Weston had hit the nail on the head.What that nail precisely was no one knew, because she had not explainedwhy both Olga Bracely and Georgie were absentees. But now came theclimax, bang on the top of the nail, a shrewd straight stroke.

  "So there she was having her lunch with Mr Georgie," said Mrs Weston,now introducing this name for the first time, with the highest dramaticart, "and they would be seeing round his house afterwards. And thenwhen it was time to come here, Mr Georgie would have remembered thatthe party was Hightum not Tightum, and there was Miss Bracely not inHightum at all, nor even Tightum, in my opinion, but Scrub. No doubtshe said to him, 'Is it a very grand sort of party, Mr Pillson?' and hecouldn't do other than reply, for we all received notice that it wasHightum--mine came about twelve--he couldn't do other than reply, 'Yes,Miss Bracely, it is.' 'Good gracious me,' she would say, 'and I've onlygot this old rag on. I must go bac
k to the Ambermere Arms, and tell mymaid--for she brought a maid in that second motor--and tell my maid toput me out something tidy.' 'But that will be a great bother for you,'he would say, or something of that sort, for I don't pretend to knowwhat he actually did say, and she would reply, 'Oh Mr Pillson, but Imust put on something tidy, and it would be so kind of you, if youwould wait for me, while I do that, and let us go together.' That'swhat _she_ said."

  Mrs Weston made a sign to her gardener to proceed, wishing to leave thestage at the moment of climax.

  "And that's why they're both late," she said, and was whirled away inthe direction of the bowling-green.

  The minutes went on, and still nobody appeared who could possibly haveaccounted for the three-lined whip of Hightums, but by degrees Lucia,who had utterly failed to decoy Lady Ambermere into the place ofthrones, began to notice a certain thinning on her lawns. Her guests,it would seem, were not in process of dispersal, for it was a long wayoff seven o'clock yet, and also none would be so ill-mannered as toleave without shaking hands and saying what a delicious afternoon theyhad spent. But certainly the lawns grew emptier, and she was utterlyunable to explain this extraordinary phenomenon, until she happened togo close to the windows of her music-room. Then, looking in, she sawthat not only was every chair there occupied, but people were standingabout in expectant groups. For a moment, her heart beat high.... CouldOlga have arrived and by some mistake have gone straight in there? Itwas a dreamlike possibility, but it burst like a ray of sunshine on theparty that was rapidly becoming a nightmare to her,--for everyone, notLady Ambermere alone, was audibly wondering when the Guru was coming,and when Miss Bracely was going to sing.

  At the moment as she paused, a window in the music-room was opened, andPiggy's odious head looked out.

  "Oh, Mrs Lucas," she said. "Goosie and I have got beautiful seats, andMamma is quite close to the piano where she will hear excellently. Hasshe promised to sing Siegfried? Is Mr Georgie going to play for her?It's the most delicious surprise; how could you be so sly and clever asnot to tell anybody?"

  Lucia cloaked her rage under the most playful manner, as she ran intothe music-room through the hall.

  "You naughty things!" she said. "Do all come into the garden! It's agarden party, and I couldn't guess where you had all gone. What's allthis about singing and playing? I know nothing of it."

  She herded the incredulous crowd out into the garden again, all intheir Hightums, every one of them, only to meet Lady Ambermere with Pugand Miss Lyall coming in.

  "Better be going, Miss Lyall," she said. "Kindly run out and find mypeople. Oh, here's Mrs Lucas. Been very pleasant indeed, thank you,good-bye. Your charming garden. Yes."

  "Oh, but it's very early," said Lucia. "It's hardly six yet."

  "Indeed!" said Lady Ambermere. "Been so charming," and she marched outafter Miss Lyall out into Shakespeare's garden.

  It was soon terribly evident that other people were sharing LadyAmbermere's conclusion about the delights of the afternoon, and thenecessity of getting home. Colonel Boucher had to take his bull-dogsfor a run and walk off the excitement of the party; Piggy and Goosieexplained to their mother that nobody was going to sing, and by silverylaughter tried to drown her just indignation, and presently Lucia hadthe agony of seeing Mrs Quantock seated on one of the thrones, that hadbeen designed for much worthier ends, and Peppino sitting in the other,while a few guests drifted about the lawn with all the purposelessnessof autumn leaves. What with the Guru, presumably meditating upstairsstill, and with Olga Bracely most conspicuously absent, she had hardlynervous energy left to wonder what could have become of Georgie. Neverin all the years of his ministry had he failed to be at her elbow throughthe entire duration of her garden-parties, flying about on her errandslike a tripping Hermes, herding her flocks if she wanted them in onepart of the garden rather than another, like a sagacious sheep-dog,and coming back to heel again ready for further tasks. But todayGeorgie was mysteriously away, for he had neither applied for leave norgiven any explanation, however improbable, of his absence. He at leastwould have prevented Lady Ambermere, the only cornerstone of the party,from going away in what must be called a huff, and have continued totell Lucia how marvellous she was, and what a beautiful party they werehaving. With the prospect of two other much more magnificentcornerstones, Lucia had not provided any further entertainment for herguests: there was not the conjurer from Brinton, nor the three youngladies who played banjo-trios, nor even the mild performing doves whichcooed so prettily, and walked up their mistress's outstretched fingersaccording to order, if they felt disposed. There was nothing to justifyHightums, there was scarcely even sufficient to warrant Tightums. Scrubwas written all over "the desert's dusty face."

  It was about half-past six when the miracles began, and without warningthe Guru walked out into the garden. Probably he had watched thedeparture of the great motor with its chauffeur and footman, and MissLyall and Lady Ambermere and Pug, and with his intuitive sagacity hadconjectured that the danger from Madras was over. He wore his new redslippers, a wonderful turban and an ecstatic smile. Lucia and Daisy methim with cries of joy, and the remaining guests, those drifting autumnleaves, were swept up, as it were, by some compelling broom andclustered in a heap in front of him. There had been a Great Message, aWord of Might, full of Love and Peace. Never had there been such aWord....

  And then, even before they had all felt the full thrill of that, oncemore the door from the house opened, and out came Olga Bracely andGeorgie. It is true that she had still her blue morning frock, whichMrs Weston had designated as Scrub, but it was a perfectly new Scrub,and if it had been completely covered with Paris labels, they would nothave made its _provenance_ one whit clearer. "Dear Mrs Lucas," shesaid, "Mr Georgie and I are terribly late, and it was quite my fault.There was a game of croquet that wouldn't come to an end, and my lifehas been guided by only one principle, and that is to finish a game ofcroquet whatever happens. I missed six trains once by finishing a gameof croquet. And Mr Georgie was so unkind: he wouldn't give me a cup oftea, or let me change my frock, but dragged me off to see you. And Iwon!"

  The autumn leaves turned green and vigorous again, while Georgie wentto get refreshment for his conqueror, and they were all introduced. Sheallowed herself to be taken with the utmost docility--how unlikeSomebody--into the tent with the thrones: she confessed to having stoodon tiptoe and looked into Mrs Quantock's garden and wanted to see it somuch from the other side of the wall. And this garden, too--might shego and wander all over this garden when she had finished the mostdelicious peach that the world held? She was so glad she had not hadtea with Mr Georgie: he would never have given her such a goodpeach....

  Now the departing guests in their Hightums, lingering on the villagegreen a little, and being rather sarcastic about the utter failure ofLucia's party, could hardly help seeing Georgie and Olga emerge fromhis house and proceed swiftly in the direction of The Hurst, and MrsAntrobus who retained marvellous eyesight as compensation for herdefective hearing, saw them go in, and simultaneously thought that shehad left her parasol at The Hurst. Next moment she was walkingthoughtfully away in that direction. Mrs Weston had been the next torealize what had happened, and though she had to go round by the roadin her bath-chair, she passed Mrs Antrobus a hundred yards from thehouse, her pretext for going back being that Lucia had promised to lendher the book by Antonio Caporelli (or was it Caporelto?).

  So once more the door into the garden opened, and out shot Mrs Weston.Olga by this time had made her tour of the garden, and might she seethe house? She might. There was a pretty music-room. At this stage,just as Mrs Weston was poured out in the garden, as with the floodgatesbeing unopened, the crowd that followed her came surging intoShakespeare's garden, and never had the mermaid's tail behind which wassecreted the electric bell, experienced such feverish usage. Pressureafter pressure invoked its aid, and the pretexts for re-admission weresoon not made at all, or simply disregarded by the parlour-maid.Colonel Boucher might have left a bull-dog,
and Mrs Antrobus an eartrumpet, or Miss Antrobus (Piggy) a shoe lace, and the other MissAntrobus (Goosie) a shoe-horn: but in brisk succession the guests whohad been so sarcastic about the party on the village-green, jostledeach other in order to revisit the scenes of their irony. Miss OlgaBracely had been known to enter the portals, and as many of them whoentered after her, found a Guru as well.

  Olga was in the music-room when the crowd had congested the hall.People were introduced to her, and sank down into the nearest chairs.Mrs Antrobus took up her old place by the keyboard of the piano.Everybody seemed to be expecting something, and by degrees the importof their longing was borne in upon Olga. They waited, and waited andwaited, much as she had waited for a cigarette the evening before. Shelooked at the piano, and there was a comfortable murmur from heraudience. She looked at Lucia, who gave a great gasp, and said nothingat all. She was the only person present who was standing now except herhostess, and Mrs Weston's gardener, who had wheeled his mistress'schair into an admirable position for hearing. She was not too wellpleased, but after all....

  "Would you like me to sing?" she asked Lucia. "Yes? Ah, there's a copyof Siegfried. Do you play?"

  Lucia could not smile any more than she was smiling already.

  "Is it very diffy?" she asked. "Could I read it, Georgie? Shall I try?"

  She slid onto the music-stool.

  "Me to begin?" she asked, finding that Olga had opened the book at thesalutation of Brunnhilde, which Lucia had practised so diligently allthe morning.

  She got no answer. Olga standing by her, had assumed a perfectlydifferent aspect. For her gaiety, her lightness was substituted someair of intense concentrated seriousness which Lucia did not understandat all. She was looking straight in front of her, gathering herself in,and paying not the smallest attention to Lucia or anybody else.

  "One, two," said Lucia. "Three. Now," and she plunged wildly into a seaof demi-semi-quavers. Olga had just opened her mouth, but shut itagain.

  "No," she said. "Once more," and she whistled the motif.

  "Oh! it's so diffy!" said Lucia beginning again. "Georgie! Turn over!"

  Georgie turned over, and Lucia counting audibly to herself made anincomparable mess all over the piano.

  Olga turned to her accompanist.

  "Shall I try?" she said.

  She sat down at the piano, and made some sort of sketch of theaccompaniment, simplifying, and yet retaining the essence. And then shesang.