by Ian Hay
CHAPTER XXI
UNREHEARSED
Mr. Mainwaring, Lady Adela, and party--the latter comprised Sylvia,Connie Carmyle, and Dicky--came to a standstill in the middle of thevast and empty drawing-room and looked enquiringly about them. LadyAdela, upon whom the labour of climbing the staircase had told heavily,first deleted from her features the stately smile which she hadmechanically assumed before crossing the threshold, and then began tosit down upon the piece of furniture which Mr. Stillbottle had recentlyvalued at twelve-and-six-pence.
"I would n't set in that chair, mum, not if I was you," remarked a huskyvoice in her ear. "The off 'hid leg is a trifle dicky."
Lady Adela, suspended in mid-air like Mahomet's coffin, startedviolently upwards into a vertical position, and then, having, on theadvice of the officious Mr. Stillbottle, selected the sofa, took in thedrawing-room with one comprehensive sweep of her lorgnette.
Mr. Stillbottle withdrew, doubtless to con his lines.
"H'm," remarked Lady Adela. "This is evidently not one of the roomsthat has just been in the hands of the painters and decorators."
"Dick," enquired Sylvia, who had been superciliously inspecting themahogany whatnot with the deal back, "who was that furtive Orientalperson who slipped past us on the staircase? Not another futurerelative-in-law, I trust."
"The stout nigger gentleman, you mean?" said Dicky, with unimpaired goodhumour. "I fancy he must have been calling on Mr. Welwyn about hisstudies. I have a notion that London University is somewhere abouthere."
"What a jolly old-fashioned house this is," said Connie from thewindow-seat. "How nice and shady this big square must be in summer."
"It is a fairly shady locality all the year round, I fancy," observedSylvia sweetly.
Kind-hearted Mr. Mainwaring coughed, and looked unhappily towards hisson. But Dicky did not appear to have heard. He had just discoveredhis carnations.
Lady Adela took up the tale.
"There was a small but ferocious-looking creature with red whiskers,"she announced, "hanging over the banisters on the top floor. Who wouldhe be, now?"
"Don't ask me, Mum," said Dicky. "I've never been in the house before,remember, except downstairs. Probably a paper-hanger, or--"
He was interrupted by the entrance of a stately procession headed byMrs. Welwyn, the rest following in single file.
Tilly effected the necessary introductions prettily and with perfectcomposure; and presently the company assorted itself into what we willcall Tableau Number One. Mr. Welwyn led Lady Adela back to the seatwhich she had vacated.
"Most of the furniture in this mansion of ours is Early Victorian," heannounced with a ready laugh; "but I think you will find this sofacomfortably Edwardian, Lady Adela."
Lady Adela, favourably impressed with her host's appearance and manner,smiled graciously and once more cautiously lowered herself onto thesofa. Here, in obedience to an almost imperceptible sign from herhusband, the quaking Mrs. Welwyn joined her, and announced, in a voicewhich she entirely failed to recognise as her own, that it was verysweet of them all to come so far.
Amelia ran impulsively to Dicky and kissed him. Mrs. Carmyle, Sylvia,and Tilly fell into a chattering group round the tea-table. Mr. Welwynand Mr. Mainwaring shook hands warmly and exchanged greetings. Thetea-party was launched.
"How many years is it, Welwyn?" asked Mr. Mainwaring.
"Let us not rake up the past, my dear Mainwaring," said Mr. Welwyn."More years than we care to count--eh? We'll leave it at that. But I amdelighted to meet you again. I wonder how the old College prospers.Foster was your tutor, was n't he?"
"Yes," replied Mr. Mainwaring, pleasantly flattered to find that a manwho had been two years senior to him should remember so much about him.
"Mine, too," mentioned Mr. Welwyn, as if determined to put his guest athis ease.
"He's a bishop now, I hear," said Mr. Mainwaring.
"_Eheu, fugaces_!" sighed Mr. Welwyn. "Come and sit by the fire."
"I think we had better have tea, Tilly," said Mrs. Welwyn, as perprogramme.
The Welwyn family, recognising a cue, began to bestir themselves forTableau Number Two.
"I seem to hear it coming up, Mother," replied Tilly.
She was right. Portentous rattlings and puffings were now audiblewithout. Next moment the doors were bumped open and Mr. Stillbottleappeared, carrying the tea-pot on a tray.
Apparently something was on his mind. His appearance was that of arighteous man deeply wronged. His was the demeanour of a Britishartisan compelled by forces which he cannot control to perform a tasknot included in his contract.
A moment later the situation explained itself. Behind Mr. Stillbottle,clinging affectionately to his flowing coat-tails, marched The Cautionand The Cure. They were dressed in white, and looked exactly alikeexcept that The Caution wore abbreviated white knickerbockers and TheCure a little white skirt. Their socks were white, their sashes andchubby legs were a radiant pink, and the angelic countenance of each waswreathed in smiles.
The procession drew up at the tea-table, where its leader proceeded todeposit the tea-pot. For a moment there was a pause in theconversation, while the hearts of the Welwyns stood still. The Twins,uncontrolled, sometimes erred on the side of originality.
"He's the Queen," explained The Cure, indicating the flinching figure ofMr. Stillbottle.
"Yesh; and we're holdin' up of his train," added The Caution.
Next moment Connie Carmyle had captured them both.
"You darlings!" she cried, and carried them off to the window-seat. Thesituation was saved.
"Little pets!" observed Lady Adela, smiling.
Even Sylvia forgot to pose for a moment. Tea was served amid a hum ofcheerful conversation. The children had evoked the maternal instinct,and all was well.
Only Mr. Stillbottle remained cold.
"You oughter 'ave kep' them locked up somewhere," he announced severelyto Tilly; and left the room.
"I don't see your son here, Mrs. Welwyn," said Lady Adela. "We had thepleasure of his company for a few minutes on Saturday."
"He will be here any minute, your--Lady Adela," replied Mrs. Welwyn witha jerk. "He is usually kept in the City till close on five, poor boy."
"That aged retainer of yours seems to be a bit of an autocrat, Tilly,"said Dicky, taking Mrs. Carmyle's chair at the tea-table.
"Yes," agreed Tilly, feeling rather miserable at having to talk to Dickyin this strain; "but you know what old servants are. In their eyes wenever grow up."
"Has he been with you for long, then?" enquired Sylvia, with a deepappearance of interest.
"How long has Russell been with us, Mother?" said Tilly, noting thatMrs. Welwyn's conversation with Lady Adela was beginning to flag.
"I can't remember, dear. It seems a long time, anyhow," replied Mrs.Welwyn with sincerity. "Ah, here is Percy. Come in, my boy. Just intime to hand round the cakes!"
"You can trust little Perce," observed that engaging youth, entirely athis ease, "to be on the spot at the right moment. How de do, LadyAdela? I hope this finds you as it leaves me."
He shook the very limp hand of Lady Adela, and having bestowed aningratiating smile upon Sylvia, proceeded amid a slowly intensifyingsilence to offer a humorous greeting to Mr. Mainwaring. Finally heturned to Dicky, and slapped him boisterously upon the shoulder.
"Well, my brave Ricardo," he enquired, "how goes it?"
"Percy, dear old thing," responded Dicky promptly, with his most vacantlaugh, "how splendid to see you again! Come and tell me all about yourclub run on Sunday."
He drew the flamboyant cyclist to a place of safety, and Tilly breathedagain.
"There is sugar and cream in this cup, Lady Adela," said Amelia, with aneat bob-curtsey.
"Thank you, little girl," said Lady Adela, taking the cup and smilingindulgently. ("Like a Duchess out slumming," Amelia told Tillyafterwards.) "What pretty manne
rs!" she continued, turning to Mrs.Welwyn. "Where do you send her to school? I used to find it sodifficult--"
"She has left school," replied Mrs. Welwyn. "I suppose we ought to sendher somewhere to get finished later on, but there--we can't do withouther, and that's the truth. Can we, dear?"
Martha Welwyn put an arm round her little daughter. She was talkingwith greater freedom and confidence now, with her aspirates underperfect control.
"I can quite understand _that_," said Lady Adela affably. "I dare sayyou find her indispensable."
"I should think so," replied Mrs. Welwyn, lowering her guard. "Whatwith all the staircases, and a basement kitchen, and separate meals--"
Tilly dropped a teaspoon with a clatter on to the tray.
"I'm so sorry, Sylvia," she said. "Did I make you jump?"
"No," responded Sylvia absently. "I was looking at your butler. Heseems to have something on his mind."
Mr. Stillbottle, who had entered the room two minutes previously, andhad been awaiting an opportunity of gaining the ear of the company, tookadvantage of the partial silence which now ensued.
"A person has called, sir," he announced to Mr. Welwyn, "for to iron thebilliard table."
Mr. Welwyn broke off his conversation with Mr. Mainwaring.
"Thank you," he said in an undertone. "Let him do so by all means."
"Yes, sir," replied Mr. Stillbottle, turning to go.
"Tell him," added Percy, highly pleased with the manner in which thelittle comedy was unfolding itself, "to see if any of the cues wanttips."
"Very good," said Mr. Stillbottle, in a voice which plainly asked whyPercy should "gag," when he might not.
The door closed once more, and another hurdle was negotiated. TheWelwyns heaved little sighs of relief: Russell's was an unnervingpresence. But Tilly glanced at the honest, laughing face of the man wholoved her, and felt suddenly ashamed.
"Quite a character, that old fellow," said Mr. Welwyn breezily."Incorrigibly idle; painfully outspoken; a domestic tyrant of the mostoppressive type; but honest as the day. I must get some one to put himin a book. Lady Adela, you have nothing to eat."
Mr. Welwyn deftly changed places with his wife, who gratefully engagedin a conversation with Mr. Mainwaring; and the rest of the companyperformed one of those complicated evolutions which children call a"general post," and which affords persons of mature years butintellectual poverty the inestimable boon of being able to employ thesame topics of conversation several times over. Tableau Number Threewas now set.
For a moment Dicky and Tilly found themselves together.
"Tea, old man?" asked Tilly, offering a cup.
"Thanks, little thing," replied Dicky, touching her hand under thesaucer.
"Did you send these?" Tilly looked down at her pink carnations.
Dicky nodded, and his gaze became suddenly ecstatic.
"Tilly," he said in tones of exultant pride, "you are looking perfectlybeautiful."
"This is a strictly business meeting," smiled Tilly; but her heartbumped foolishly. For a moment nothing seemed to matter save theknowledge that Dicky loved her and she loved Dicky.
The next event of any importance was the discovery that Mrs. Carmyle,engrossed with the twins, had had no tea. There were cries ofcontrition from the Welwyn family, and Connie was hurried to thetea-table, followed by the desolating howls of her youthfuladmirers--howls which increased to yells when Mrs. Welwyn announced thatit was time for them to return whence they came. However, they werepacified by an offer from their new friend to accompany them part of theway; and after submitting with a sweetness as adorable as it wasunexpected to an embrace from Lady Adela, they left the room clinging toConnie's skirts, having contributed to the programme the oneunassailably successful item of the whole afternoon.
Amelia went with them, but returned almost immediately.
"Mrs. Carmyle is telling them a story in the dining-room," she said toher mother. "They are as good as gold with her."
"Dear Constance! She is a fairy godmother to all children," remarkedLady Adela, who was feeling quite remarkably beatific.
"Yes--children of all ages," corroborated Dicky, catching Tilly's eye.
"I declare," cried Mrs. Welwyn suddenly, as this pleasant episodeterminated, "I had almost forgotten. Tilly dear, you had better takeyour grandmother's tea in to her."
"All right, Mother," assented Tilly blithely. The party was shaping intoa success.
"I am so sorry, Lady Adela," said Mr. Welwyn, picking up the new topicwith the readiness of a practised conversationalist, "that you will notmeet my wife's mother this afternoon. She spends a good deal of hertime with us. A dear old lady--quite of the Early Victorian school."
"She is not unwell, I hope," said Lady Adela politely.
"A slight chill--a mere nothing," Mr. Welwyn assured her; "but at thatage one has to be careful. The doctor is keeping her in bed to-day. Iregret it, because I think you would have enjoyed a conversation withher. She is a mistress of the rounded phrase and polished diction oftwo generations ago. So unlike the staccato stuff that passes forconversation nowadays."
"Too true, too true!" agreed Lady Adela, eagerly mounting one of her pethobby-horses. "She sounds most stimulating. It is unfashionable to-dayto be elderly. My daughter informs me that no one--not even agrandmother--should have any recollection of anything that happenedprevious to the period when people wore bustles. All time before thatshe sums up as the chignon age. No, there is no sense of perspectivenowadays. We are all for the present."
"Admirably put, dear Lady Adela," cooed Mr. Welwyn. "I remember--"
What Mr. Welwyn remembered will never be known, for at that moment thedoor opened, slowly but inexorably, and Grandma Banks appeared. Sheadvanced into the room with a few uncertain and tottering steps, peeredround her, and nodded her head with great vigour.
"I thought so," she observed triumphantly. "Company! No wonder I weresent to bed."
There was a paralysed silence. Mr. Welwyn was the first to recover hispresence of mind. He advanced upon his infirm but irrepressiblerelative shaking a playful finger.
"This is very, very naughty," he announced reproachfully. "What willthe doctor say?"
"THIS IS VERY NAUGHTY," HE ANNOUNCED REPROACHFULLY]
"Eh?" enquired Grandma.
"You were told to stay in bed, you know, dear," said Mrs. Welwyn, comingto her husband's assistance.
"I were n't never told no such thing by nobody," replied the old ladyexplicitly.
Tilly, avoiding Sylvia's eye, decided to make the best of the situation.
"Well, now you are here, Granny," she interposed brightly, "you mustcome and sit snugly by the fire and have some tea. 'Melia, bring thatlittle three-legged table and put it by Granny's chair, and bring afootstool."
The Welwyns, swiftly taking their cue from Tilly, bestirred themselvesin fulsome desperation, and in a few minutes Grandma Banks, a trifleflustered by her sudden and most unusual popularity, found herselftucked into her armchair by the assiduous efforts of the entire family.
"This is my grandmother, Mrs. Banks," said Tilly to Mr. Mainwaring, whohappened to be sitting nearest.
"I trust, Mrs. Banks," began Mr. Mainwaring with a deferential bow,"that you are not allowing your sense of hospitality to overtax yourstrength."
"Eh?" enquired Mrs. Banks, as ever.
"She is rather deaf," explained Tilly in an undertone. "Don't strainyour voice by talking to her too long."
"The gentleman," announced Grandma unexpectedly, "shall talk to me aslong as he likes."
"Aha, Tilly, old lady! That's one for you," cried the watchful Percy,and the Welwyn family laughed, hurriedly and tumultuously. Grandma'soctogenarian heart glowed. Social success had come to her at last. Shebegan to enjoy herself hugely. Tilly cast an anxious glance round her.Grandma's entrance had sensibly lowered the temperature of thetea-party, and worse threatened. Already Lady Adela was exhibiting atendency to edge towards the firep
lace. It was only too plain that shecontemplated yet another "cosy chat." Tilly decided to fall back uponthe one trustworthy person in the room.
"Granny," she said, taking Dicky by the arm and leading him forward, "Iwant to introduce Mr. Dick Mainwaring. You have heard of him, have n'tyou?"
Mrs. Banks surveyed Dicky over her spectacles.
"Yes," replied Mrs. Banks with deliberation, "I 'ave 'eard of you. Youand our Tilly are walking out."
Dicky assented with a happy laugh, and dropped into the only chair inGrandma's vicinity. Tilly breathed again: Lady Adela's further advancewas checked. The party settled down once more, and talk broke outafresh.
Grandma Banks, whose conversational flights were not as a ruleencouraged by her relatives, availed herself of her present emancipationto embark upon a brief homily to Dicky.
"I tells you this, young man," she said in a hectoring voice, "you'vegot a treasure in our Tilly. Don't you forget it."
"I made that discovery for myself a long time ago," said Dicky. Hesmiled up at his treasure, who was sitting upon the arm of his chair.
The treasure's grandmother, having in the mean time been supplied withrefreshment by Amelia, took a piece of bread-and-butter and rolled it upinto a convenient cylinder.
"Yes," she continued, dipping the end of the cylinder into her tea, "shetakes after her mother, does Tilly. She may get some of her looks fromher father's side, but when it comes to character, she's a Banks." Heraged voice rose higher. "Always been respectable, 'as the Bankses," sheannounced shrilly. "Very different from--"
At this point not less than three persons enquired of Lady Adela if shewould not take another cup of tea; and in the hospitable melee whichensued Grandma's further utterances were obscured.
Percy was holding Lady Adela's cup, and Tilly was re-filling it, whenthe door opened and Mr. Stillbottle made his second entrance. Asbefore, he came to a halt immediately on appearing, and coughed in adistressing fashion without making any attempt to deliver his lines.
"There is that quaint old retainer of yours again, Tilly," said Sylvia.
Tilly turned quickly.
"Well, Russell?" she asked.
Mr. Stillbottle, ignoring her entirely, addressed himself to the masterof the house.
"A message has came through on the telephone, sir," he chanted, fixinghis eyes upon an imaginary prompt-book on the opposite wall, "askin' foryou to be so kind as to attend a meetin' of the Club C'mittee at threeo'clock on Toosday next."
"I think I am engaged," replied Mr. Welwyn, with an anxious glance inthe direction of his mother-in-law (who was fortunately busily occupiedin masticating a cylinder); "but say I will let them know."
"Right," said Mr. Stillbottle, and departed.
The Welwyns, who during the time occupied by their butler's second"turn," had been inclining uneasy ears in the direction of the opendoorway, surveyed one another in a frightened fashion. All was not wellon the second floor: evidence to that effect was plainly audible.
"Great bore, these committee meetings," commented Mr. Welwyn. "I expectyou have your fill of them, Mainwaring."
"Alas, yes!" said Mr. Mainwaring. "They are all the same. Everybodysits and looks portentously solemn--"
"All sorts of non-controversial business is brought forward as a matterof pressing importance--"
"Everybody disagrees with everybody else--"
"And ultimately everything is left to the Secretary, who arrangesmatters quite satisfactorily without any assistance whatsoever!"
The two elderly gentlemen laughed happily at their own spirited littledialogue, and Mr. Welwyn rose to lay down his cup. It was a tacticalblunder of capital magnitude. Lady Adela, left momentarily unguarded,immediately slipped her moorings, rose to her feet, and sailed withgreat stateliness in the direction of the fireplace.
"I am going to have a chat with your dear mother," she observedgraciously to Mrs. Welwyn in passing. "Dick dear, let me have yourchair."
Dicky, feeling that it was not for him to participate in a battle ofgiants, obeyed, and Lady Adela sank down opposite Grandma Banks.Simultaneously sounds of further disturbances penetrated from theregions above, and a small lump of plaster fell from the ceiling.Grandma, still intent upon a hearty and unwholesome tea, made noacknowledgment of Lady Adela's presence until Mrs. Welwyn effected anintroduction.
"Mother," she explained, "this is Lady Adela, Mr. Dick's mother."
Mrs. Banks nodded curtly.
"It is very kind of you, Mrs. Banks," intimated Lady Adela in the voiceof one who meditates producing soup-tickets later on, "to make thisspecial effort on our behalf. I hope we are not too much for you."
The relict of the departed Banks poured some tea from her cup into hersaucer, took a hearty and sibilant sip, and replied:--
"Very few folks 'as ever bin too much for me. I 'ear as 'ow you havecome on business."
"We told her," Mrs. Welwyn explained to Lady Adela, who was watchingGrandma's performance with the saucer with hypnotic fascination, "thatyou and Mr. Mainwaring were coming to-day to have a talk about Tilly andMr. Dick. That is what she meant by business, I expect."
But the explanation fell on inattentive ears.
Lady Adela's gaze had now risen from the saucer to the ceiling, whichwas vibrating madly, apparently under the repeated impact of one or moreheavy bodies. The rest of the company had given up all pretence atconversation some time ago.
It was Dicky who supplied a line of explanation.
"Mrs. Welwyn," he said gravely, "your paper-hangers seem to beskylarking a little bit--what?"
"That's it," agreed Mrs. Welwyn, transparently grateful. "But what canone do?" she continued, speaking with pathetic solicitude in LadyAdela's direction. "You know what paperhangers are!"
"A playful race! A playful race!" cooed Mr. Welwyn helpfully.
There was another heavy bump overhead. The prism-decked chandelierrattled, and the ceiling shed another regretful flake.
"Sounds as if some one had tried to walk up the wall and failed,"observed Percy, with that courageous facetiousness which comesproverbially to Britons at moments of great peril.
"How exasperating it must be for you all, Tilly," said Sylviasympathetically. "I wonder you don't go and live somewhere else whileit is going on."
Tilly, whose powers of endurance were fast coming to an end, made noreply. Kindly Mr. Mainwaring bridged the gulf of silence.
"It is extraordinary," he began chattily to the company at large, "howcompletely one is at the mercy of the British workman. Once you get himinto your house he sticks. I suppose the title of arch-limpet must beawarded to the plumber; but I should think the paperhanger--"
He was interrupted by the querulous but arresting voice of GrandmaBanks.
"What's that?" she enquired with ominous distinctness, "about plumbers?"
"I was awarding the palm for general iniquity, dear Mrs. Banks,"explained Mr. Mainwaring smilingly, "to the plumbing fraternity.Plumbers--"
Mrs. Welwyn made a hasty movement, but it was too late. Grandma's bowedand shrivelled form suddenly swelled and stiffened.
"Ho, was you?" she enquired with rising indignation. "Then let me tellyou that my late 'usband, Mr. Josiah Banks, what was very 'ighlyrespected in 'Itchin--"
Tilly dropped two teaspoons despairingly, and there was another and moretimely bump overhead.
"Percy dear," interposed Mrs. Welwyn hastily, "don't you think you hadbetter run up and see what those wretches are doing?"
"Righto, Mother," said Percy, rising with alacrity.
"My late 'usband--" resumed Mrs. Banks, _crescendo_.
"It certainly is an extraordinary noise," remarked Mr. Welwyn loudly."They appear to be on the staircase now."
"Sliding down the banisters, no doubt," said Dicky. "Playful littlefellows! Shall I come with you, Percy?"
Percy Welwyn paused, a little embarrassed.
"Don't trouble," he said. "You see--"
He paused again--fatal
ly.
"My late 'usband," proclaimed Grandma Banks on the top note of herregister, "was a plumber 'imself."
Next moment the double doors burst open, and Mr. Mehta Ram, frantic withterror, hurled himself into the room.
