It was most annoying, but when an irremediable annoyance has absolutely occurred, the only possible thing for a decent person to do is to take it as lightly as possible. Georgie rose gallantly to the occasion, gave a little squeal and ran from the room.
“Down again presently,” he called out, and had a heavy fall on the stairs, as he went up to his bedroom. There he had a short argument with himself. It was possible to slam his door, go to bed, and be very polite in the morning. But that would never do: Hermy and Ursy would have a joke against him forever. It was really much better to share in the joke, identifying himself with it. So he brushed his hair in the orthodox fashion, put on a very smart dressing-gown, and came tripping downstairs again.
“My dears, what fun!” he said. “Let’s all have supper. But let’s move into the dining-room, where there’s a table, and I’ll get another bottle of wine, and some glasses, and we’ll bring Tipsipoozie in. You naughty girls, fancy arriving at a time like this. I suppose your plan was to go very quietly to bed, and come down to breakfast in the morning, and give me a fine surprise. Tell me about it now.”
So presently Tipsipoozie was having his marmalade, which did just as well as jam, and they were all eating slices off the ham, and stuffing them into split buns.
“Yes, we thought we might as well do it all in one go,” said Hermy, “and it’s a hundred and twenty miles, if it’s a yard. And then it was so late when we got here, we thought we wouldn’t disturb you, specially as the drawing-room window wasn’t bolted.”
“Bicycles outside,” said Ursy, “they’ll just have to be out at grass till morning. Oh, Tipsi-ipsi-poozie-woozy, how is you? Hope he behaved like the good little Tiptree that he is, Georgie?”
“O yes, we made great friends,” said Georgie sketchily. “He was wee bit upset at the station, but then he had a good tea with his Uncle Georgie and played hide and seek.”
Rather rashly, Georgie made a face at Tiptree, the sort of face which amuses children. But it didn’t amuse Tiptree, who made another face, in which teeth played a prominent part.
“Fool-dog,” said Hermy, carelessly smacking him across the nose. “Always hit him if he shows his teeth, Georgie. Pass the fizz.”
“Well, so we got through the drawing-room window,” continued Ursy, “and golly, we were hungry. So we foraged, and there we were! Jolly plucky of you, Georgie, to come down and beard us.”
“Real sport,” said Hermy. “And how’s old Fol-de-rol-de-ray? Why didn’t she come down and fight us, too?”
Georgie guessed that Hermy was making a humourous allusion to Foljambe, who was the one person in Riseholme whom his two sisters seemed to hold in respect. Ursy had once set a booby-trap for Georgie, but the mixed biscuits and Brazil nuts had descended on Foljambe instead. On that occasion Foljambe, girt about in impenetrable calm, had behaved as if nothing had happened and trod on biscuits and Brazil nuts without a smile, unaware to all appearance that there was anything whatever crunching and exploding beneath her feet. That had somehow quelled the two, who, as soon as she left the room again, swept up the mess, and put the uninjured Brazil nuts back into the dessert dish…. It would never do if Foljambe lost her prestige and was alluded to by some outrageously slangy name.
“If you mean Foljambe,” said Georgie icily, “it was because I didn’t think it worth while to disturb her.”
In spite of their ride, the indefatigable sisters were up early next morning, and the first thing Georgie saw out of his bathroom window was the pair of them practising lifting shots over the ducking pond on the green till breakfast was ready. He had given a short account of last night’s adventure to Foljambe when she called him, omitting the episode about his hair, and her disapproval was strongly indicated by her silence then, and the studied contempt of her manner to the sisters when they came in to breakfast.
“Hullo, Foljambe,” said Hermy. “We had a rare lark last night.”
“So I understand, miss,” said Foljambe.
“Got in through the drawing-room window,” said Hermy, hoping to make her smile.
“Indeed, miss,” said Foljambe. “Have you any orders for the car, sir?”
“Oh, Georgie, may we run over to the links this morning?” asked Hermy. “Mayn’t Dickie-bird take us there?”
She glanced at Foljambe to see whether this brilliant wit afforded her any amusement. Apparently it didn’t.
“Tell Dicky to be round at half-past ten,” said Georgie.
“Yes, sir.”
“Hurrah!” said Ursy. “Come, too, Foljambe, and we’ll have a three-ball match.”
“No, thank you, miss,” said Foljambe, and sailed from the room, looking down her nose.
“Golly, what an iceberg!” said Hermy when the door was quite shut.
Georgie was not sorry to have the morning to himself, for he wanted to have a little quiet practice at the Mozart trio, before he went over to Lucia’s at half-past eleven, the hour when she had arranged to run through it for the first time. He would also have time to do a few posturing exercises before the first Yoga-class, which was to take place in Lucia’s smoking-parlour at half-past twelve. That would make a pretty busy morning, and as for the afternoon, there would be sure to be some callers, since the arrival of his sisters had been expected, and after that he had to go to the Ambermere Arms for his visit to Olga Bracely…. And what was he to do about her with regard to Lucia? Already he had been guilty of disloyalty, for Lady Ambermere had warned him of the prima-donna’s arrival yesterday, and he had not instantly communicated that really great piece of news to Lucia. Should he make such amends as were in his power for that omission, or, greatly daring, should he keep her to himself, as Mrs Quantock so fervently wished that she had done with regard to the Guru? After the adventure of last night, he felt he ought to be able to look any situation in the face, but he found himself utterly unable to conceive himself manly and erect before the bird-like eyes of the Queen, if she found out that Olga Bracely had been at Riseholme for the day of her garden-party, and that Georgie, knowing it and having gone to see her, had not informed the Court of that fact.
The spirit of Bolshevism, the desire to throw off all authority and act independently, which had assailed him yesterday returned now with redoubled force. If he had been perfectly certain that he would not be found out, there is no doubt he would have kept it from her, and yet, after all, what was the glory of going to see Olga Bracely (and perhaps even entertaining her here) if all Riseholme did not turn green with jealousy? Moreover there was every chance of being found out, for Lady Ambermere would be at the garden party tomorrow, and she would be sure to wonder why Lucia had not asked Olga. Then it would come out that Lucia didn’t know of that eminent presence, and Lady Ambermere would be astonished that Georgie had not told her. Thus he would be in the situation which his imagination was unable to face, although he had thrown the drawing room door open in the middle of the night, and announced that he would fire with his poker.
No; he would have to tell Lucia, when he went to read the Mozart trio with her for the first time, and very likely she would call on Olga Bracely herself, though nobody had asked her to, and take all the wind out of Georgie’s sails. Sickening though that would be, he could not face the alternative, and he opened his copy of the Mozart trio with a sigh. Lucia did push and shove, and have everything her own way. Anyhow he would not tell her that Olga and her husband were dining at The Hall tonight; he would not even tell her that her husband’s name was Shuttleworth, and Lucia might make a dreadful mistake, and ask Mr and Mrs Bracely. That would be jam for Georgie, and he could easily imagine himself saying to Lucia, “My dear, I thought you must have known that she had married Mr Shuttleworth and kept her maiden name! How tarsome for you! They are so touchy about that sort of thing.”
Georgie heard the tinkle of the treble part of the Mozart trio (Lucia always took the treble, because it had more tune in it, though she pretended that she had not Georgie’s fine touch, which made the bass effective) as he let himself