by Ian Hay
CHAPTER XX
REHEARSED EFFECTS
"_H_as _H_erbert," enquired Mrs. Welwyn, taking a deep breath, "_h_urt_H_orace?" She choked. "Oh, dear!"
"Very good, Mumsie," said Amelia encouragingly. "Go on."
"But it puts me out of breath so, child, as soon as I begin to think ofit," complained her pupil. "I shall never learn."
"Yes, you will," said Amelia confidently. "H's are just a matter ofproper breathing, Daddy says. Now try the next sentence, and rememberthere's a trap in it!"
Miss Amelia seated herself upon the floor, clasping her long black legswith her arms and resting her chin on her knees.
"Now," she said, with a little nod.
Conscientious Mrs. Welwyn, having audibly recharged her lungs, now beganto emit another heavily aspirated sentence.
"_H_ildebrand," she announced, "_h_as _h_it _H_enry _h_ard_h_intentionally. There, that's done it!" She sighed despairingly.
"And I warned you, Mother," said Amelia reproachfully. "That last wordis put in on purpose to trip you up."
"Yes, I know," replied her mother with an apologetic smile. "And italways does. You can't teach an old dog new tricks, ducky, and that's afact. I have always been common in my talk, and common in my talk Ialways will be. All I can promise is that I will do my best thisafternoon; and I hope, for all of your sakes, that your old mother won'tgo and disgrace you."
Little 'Melia's reply to this humble aspiration was an embrace whichentirely disorganised the hooks and eyes at the back of Martha Welwyn'sfestal garment. While the disaster was being repaired, Tilly enteredbriskly. In her hand she held a printed card, bearing the legend
APARTMENTS
in staring letters. This she dropped behind the piano.
"Hook me up behind, 'Melia, will you," she said, "when you have finishedMother? No, I'll do Mother and you do me. Your hair-ribbon is wrong.Let me get hold of it."
The Welwyns, _mere et filles_, formed themselves into a volubleequilateral triangle.
"I found that 'Apartments' card lying on the hall table," said Tillywith a shiver. "I suppose Russell took it out of the drawer when he wasmaking his inventory. A nice thing if they had all marched in throughthe front door at that very moment! Still," she added cheerily,"there's no harm done. Am I all right, do you think?"
"Tilly, you look lovely," said Amelia.
"One thing about being a dress-designer," admitted Tilly, kissing herlittle sister, "is that you can design yourself a dress. 'Melia, youlook a little duck. Mother, your hair is n't quite right. Let me pullit out a bit here."
She tweaked the coiffure of her much-enduring parent into position,whistling blithely. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes sparkled. She wasdetermined to look her best for Dicky that day. And to do her justice,she did.
"Tilly dear," remarked Mrs. Welwyn dubiously, "can we all get round thattable for tea?"
"Gracious!" cried Tilly, observing the heavily loaded table for thefirst time. "You are never going to plant everybody round _that_, likenursery tea?"
"Ain't we?" said Mrs. Welwyn blankly.
"Certainly not," replied Tilly.
Swiftly she sketched out the fundamentals of that meal which combinesthe maximum of discomfort with the minimum of nourishment--afternoon-teaas consumed by high society in the present period--and in three minutesthe great round table, tipped onto its edge, was trundled rapidly intoMr. Welwyn's bedroom, to the surprise and discomfort of Mr. Welwyn, whowas dressing at the time.
"Now a small tea-table," commanded Tilly.
"There is n't such a thing in the house, love," panted her overheatedparent.
"Yes, there is," said little 'Melia, the ever-ready. "In Mr.Pumpherston's room. He keeps a text framed in fir-cones on it."
"You're right, dear; I had forgotten," admitted Mrs. Welwyn. "Well,Pumpherston is going to get bounced this evening anyway, so we might aswell have his table now as then. Come with me and get it. He's out."
Left alone, Tilly flitted about the room, reviving its faded glories asfar as she was able by deft touches here and there; straighteningcurtains, patting cushions, and confiding to various unresponsivearticles of upholstery the information that her Love was like a Red, RedRose.
"Tea-table here, I think," she said, pausing. "Probably Lady Adela wouldhave hers nearer the fire; but then Lady Adela's drawing-room carpet hasnot got a hole in it. Come in!"
The door opened, and an eerie figure appeared. It was Mr. Russell--_ne_Stillbottle--in his shirt-sleeves, wearing an insecurely fasteneddickey. His black trousers, being much too long for him, presented acorrugated appearance. In his hand he carried a great bunch of pinkcarnations.
"These 'ave just been 'anded in, Miss," he announced. "No name,and"--with a slight note of congratulation in his voice--"nothing topay."
Tilly thanked him, and, taking the flowers, buried her face in the heartof the bunch. When she withdrew it she found that Mr. Stillbottle wasstill present.
"If you could find him, Miss," he said deferentially, "I should like to'ave a word with the Chief Nut."
"Who?"
"The old feller that's running this fake."
"Oh, my father?" said Tilly, biting her lip. "He is dressing, I think."She tucked three or four carnations into her belt and began to arrangethe others in a bowl.
"Then, perhaps," said Mr. Russell, "you could advise me on a purelypersonal matter."
"Certainly," replied Tilly absently. Dicky's gift still claimed all herattention.
"It's these trousers, Miss," explained Russell confidentially. "Theyare the pair supplied by the management; and between ourselves I don'tthink they suit me. Brother Perce may 'ave a faithful 'eart, but 'e 's_built_ all wrong. These trousers are six or eight inches too long inthe leg. I feel as if I was wearin' a pair of concertinas. Now--"
This sartorial jeremiad was cut short by the entrance of Mrs. Welwyn,who, travelling full-speed astern and towing Amelia and the tea-table ofPumpherston in her wake, butted the double doors open, and backedheavily into the orator. Mr. Russell, looking deeply injured, retired tocomplete his toilet.
"That's better," said Tilly, when the small tea-table had been placedover the hole in the carpet, and the tea-tray had been placed over ahole in the tablecloth. "Is everything ready?"
"Yes," said Amelia.
"What about the babies?"
"I have washed and dressed them," said Mrs. Welwyn. "Melia will fetchthem down for a few minutes about a quarter-to-six."
"That's all right," said Tilly approvingly. "They are darlings, both ofthem, and I should like to have them down all the time, but it's toorisky. What time is it now?"
"Ten minutes to five," said Amelia.
"Mercy!" exclaimed Mrs. Welwyn, greatly agitated at the proximity of herhour. "Where shall I sit, Tilly dear?"
"On the sofa, Mumsie; and don't get hot, because you are looking verynice," said Tilly soothingly. "Hallo, Dad--just in time!"
Mr. Welwyn in a frock-coat, looking quite the scholar and gentleman, hadentered from his bedroom.
"I perceive the feast is spread," he observed jauntily. "Mistress ofCeremonies, how do we dispose ourselves?"
"Mother here," replied meticulous Tilly--"on the sofa with the 'MorningPost.' I picked it up off the floor of the railway-carriage thismorning. Don't read it; just be glancing at it carelessly. Father, sitby the fire with a book. Here's one. 'Melia, you had better be on afootstool at Mother's feet, with your head against her knee. Don't fallover her when you get up, Mother. And don't come forward more thanthree steps to meet Lady Adela: you 're as good as she is, remember.Say it's very sweet of her to come all this way. And if you call her'your Ladyship,' I shall walk straight across the room and killyou--see?"
"Yes, lovey," sighed the flustered Mrs. Welwyn. "What _do_ I call her?"
"Lady Adela--not Lady Mainwaring, mind!"
"It sounds so fami
liar, starting Christian names right off," objectedMrs. Welwyn feebly.
"Never mind; you've got to do it," said Tilly ruthlessly. "I shall behere by the tea-table, and if any of you get on to thin ice I shall dropa teaspoon. Do you all understand?"
"Yes, Tilly," replied a respectful chorus.
"Very well, then," replied the Mistress of Ceremonies. "Now let me seeyou all in your places. Attention!"
Tilly clapped her hands, and her well-drilled retinue froze into theirappointed attitudes.
"Don't hold the 'Morning Post' as if you were trying to lick butter offit, Mother," said Tilly. "'Melia, pull up your stocking. Dad, you aresplendid, but you are laughing. This is a serious business, remember.Now, all keep like that for two minutes, to see if--Mercy on us, herethey are!"
But she was wrong.
The door creaked, and swung slowly open, to admit the attenuated figureof Grandma Banks, who in the most unconcerned fashion possible hobbledacross the room to the fireplace and seated herself in the vacantarmchair opposite to her son-in-law, with every appearance of havingcome to anchor for the evening.
----
Grandma's descendants gathered into a panic-stricken knot in the corner.
"She _can't_ stay!" whispered Tilly frantically. "Mother, get her tobed."
"My dearie," responded Mrs. Welwyn helplessly, "you know what she iswhen she smells a rat!"
"Try, anyhow!" urged Tilly, glancing feverishly at the clock.
Mrs. Welwyn approached her aged parent much as a small boy approaches areputed wasp's nest.
"Mother," she said nervously.
"Eh?" replied Mrs. Banks, looking up sharply and scrutinising herdaughter over her glasses. "What 'ave you got them things on for? Goin'out somewhere? At your age, too!" she added irrelevantly.
"Yes--no--yes," stammered Martha Welwyn, who tampered with the truthwith difficulty. "I've arranged for you to have your tea in your ownroom this afternoon, Mother."
"Why?" enquired Mrs. Banks at once.
"You are not looking very well," interposed Mr. Welwyn rashly.
"I'm eighty-one," retorted the old lady with great spirit, "and as'earty as ever I was, Welwyn. I shall 'ave my tea in 'ere."
"We rather want this room this afternoon, dear," resumed Mrs. Welwyngallantly. "Father has some people coming in on business."
"Is Father going to get a job of work to do?" riposted Grandma Banks, intones of gratified surprise.
Mr. Welwyn blew his nose sheepishly, and the clock struck five. Tillycame forward and knelt by her grandmother's chair.
"It is very important for all of us, Granny," she pleaded, "that Fathershould have an undisturbed talk with these people; so we thought wewould keep this room clear this afternoon. You don't want to betroubled with strangers, do you? Nasty, loud-voiced people."
"I likes people with loud voices," replied the old lady cantankerously."I can 'ear what they says."
"But they're only going to talk business," urged Tilly. "Come along,there's a dear old Grandma. You'll be much more comfortable in your ownroom. There's a nice fire there, and I'll bring you in a lovely tea.Take my arm."
By this time Mrs. Banks had been raised to her feet, and now foundherself being gently but inexorably propelled in the direction of thedoor.
"You don't _want_ me, that's the truth," she observed, gettingreluctantly under way. "You 're ashamed of your old Grandma, that'swhat it is."
"Nonsense, darling," said Tilly. "You know how fond we all are of you.But you would only be tired out by a lot of people."
"No," persisted the old lady, "you don't want me."
She hobbled through the door on her grand-daughter's arm, still speakingthe truth.
"Poor old Granny!" Tilly's voice said very gently. "I promise to makeit all up to you some day."
The bedroom door on the other side of the landing was heard to open andshut, and there was momentary silence. Then the front-door bell emitteda majestic peal. The sound thrilled the Welwyns like a tocsin. Tillydarted in.
"Get to your places," she whispered.
The troupe hastily resumed their proper poses, and a tense silenceensued.
Mrs. Welwyn took a deep breath.
"_H_as _H_orace," she enquired in a hoarse and hysterical whisper,"_h_urt _H_erbert? No, but _H_ildebrand--"
"They are in the hall," hissed Amelia.
"They are coming up," said Mr. Welwyn calmly.
Suddenly Tilly's fortitude deserted her.
"I can't bear it!" she wailed, and bolted incontinently through theinner door into her father's room.
"Tilly darling, don't leave us!" was the agonised cry of Mrs. Welwyn andAmelia....
Next moment Mr. Welwyn, finding himself alone in his own drawing-room,rose to his feet and, as rapidly as was compatible with the dignity of ascholar and a gentleman, joined the panic-stricken mob in his bedroom.
Almost simultaneously the door onto the landing was thrown open, and Mr.Stillbottle's wheezy voice announced:--
"Lord Mainwaring, Lady Mainwaring, and party!" Then in a surprised andinformal tone:--
"Hallo! Stage clear?"
