by E. F. Benson
Lord Cookham bowed precisely as a butler bows when a guest presents him on Monday morning with a smaller token of gratitude than he had anticipated.
“In the present unhappy state of unrest in India,” he resumed, “it is important that the most rigid etiquette should be observed towards his Highness, and that he should see, accompanied by every exhibition of magnificence, not only the might and power of England, but all that is most characteristic and splendid in the life of English subjects and citizens.”
“I will wear what Jack calls the family fender,” said Dodo. “Tiara, you know, so tall that you couldn’t fall into the fire if you put it on the hearthrug.”
Lord Cookham bowed again.
“Exactly,” he said. “The fame of the Chesterford diamonds is world-wide, and you have supplied a wholly apposite illustration of what I am attempting to point out. But it is not only in material splendour, Lady Chesterford, that I desire to produce a magnificent impression on our honoured visitor; I want him to mix with all that is stateliest in birth, in intellect, in aristocracy of all kinds, of science, of art, of industrial pre-eminence, of politics, of public service. It was with this idea in my mind that your name occurred to me as being the most capable among all our London hostesses of bringing together such an assembly as will be perfectly characteristic of all that is most splendid in the social life of our nation.”
These well-balanced and handsome expressions did not deceive Dodo for a moment; she rightly interpreted them as being an amiable doxology which should introduce the subject of the revision of her list of guests. She could not help interjecting a remark or two any more than a highly-charged syphon can help sizzling a little, but she was confident, now that Lord Cookham was well afloat, that her remarks would not hamper the majestic movement of his incredible eloquence.
“Daddy will do for industrial pre-eminence,” she said, “though perhaps you would hardly call him stately.”
Lord Cookham waved his smooth white hand in assent.
“I see already,” he said, “that our list is not likely to cause us much trouble. Mr. Vane’s name occurred to me at once, apart from his felicity in being your father, for he stands pre-eminent among our masters of industry as an example of one who has amassed a princely fortune by wholly admirable methods and is as princely in his public generosity as in the lavishness of his private hospitality. Your father, in fact, Lady Chesterford, is typical of the aristocracy of industry. Sprung from the very dregs — I should say from the very heart of democracy, he has risen to a position attained by few of those who have been the architects of their own fortunes. Among such you can be of inestimable assistance to me in making this gathering truly representative. You are in touch in a way that I cannot hope to be in spite of my earnest endeavours to make myself acquainted with our country’s industrial pioneers, with the princes of manufacture, and while it shall be my task, in conjunction of course with you, to secure the presence of the most representative among our de Veres and Plantagenets, you will be invaluable in suggesting the names of those who by their industry, capital and powers of organisation, have in no less degree than our hereditary aristocracy, helped to establish on sure foundations the power of England. This ball of yours is to be like some great naval or military demonstration designed to set forth the wealth and the might of our country. In the present state of unrest in India from which as you so rightly observe, our guest is fortunate in securing a holiday, it must be his holiday-task, if I may adopt the phraseology of youth, to weigh and appreciate the power that claims his fidelity. We have no more loyal prince in India than he, and what he shall see on his visit here must confirm and strengthen that. Busy though I am this morning (indeed I am always busy) I was well aware that I could not spend a half-hour more profitably than in coming personally to see you. It would have been difficult to convey all this to you so unerringly on the telephone.”
Dodo’s mouth had long ago fallen wide open in sheer astonishment. She had shut it again for a moment in order to avoid laughing at the mention of Daddy as having sprung from the dregs of the people, but immediately afterwards it had fallen open again and so remained, as she drank in the superb periods. They soaked in quickly like water on a parched soil. He paused for only a moment.
“It is in this sense that I have alluded to the honour done to you,” he resumed, “by my tentative selection of you as hostess in what I am sure will constitute the culminating impression on the Maharajah’s mind. You will be for that evening the representative of England herself. Let us next consider the question of date, if, as I take it, you are at one with me on the topic of the list of your guests. Now though you, as hostess will have gathered together this amazing assembly, and will therefore be the queen of them all, the more dynastic representatives of England will, I have reason to hope, honour you with their presence in unique numbers. The date you propose, namely the sixteenth of July, may, I hope, be found suitable, but I should like to be in a position to submit other dates in case it is not. Shall we therefore temporarily fix on that night or one of the two following?”
This was getting down to business, and Dodo pulled herself together.
“We will fix on nothing of the sort,” she said. “My ball is on the sixteenth. And, do you know, to speak quite frankly, I don’t care two pins whether your Maharajah comes or not. In spite of my humble origin I have entertained scores of Maharajahs. Last year half a dozen of them were foisted on to me.”
“I have given you some slight sketch of a unique occasion,” he reminded her.
“I know you have. I enjoyed it enormously. But my ball is on the sixteenth; you don’t seem to understand that yet. And if it doesn’t suit anybody he needn’t come.”
Lord Cookham took a memorandum book from his pocket.
“I have of course been entrusted with all arrangements for his visit,” he said, “and I see I have fixed nothing for the sixteenth.”
“Very well, fix it now,” said Dodo, “and let us go back to the question of the list of guests. There is no such question, let me tell you. I am asking my own guests. I shall be delighted to see the Maharajah (you must tell me something about him in a minute), and any other of those whom just now you called the dynastic representatives of England. I love having kings and queens and princes at my house, because we all are such snobs, aren’t we? But I believe that this notion of my submitting my list to you is your own idea. You weren’t commanded to do anything of the sort, were you?”
He drew himself up slightly.
“My conduct in this as in all other such matters,” he said, “has been dictated by my sense of the duties of my position.”
“Same here,” said Dodo. “I am the hostess and I shall do just as I please about my ball. Now I’m not going to have it stuffed up with scarecrows. A dozen fossilised Plantagenets spoil all the fun for yards round. They look down their noses and wonder who other people are. Of course there are plenty of Plantagenets who are ducks; they’ll be here all right, but if the angel Gabriel said he wanted to make additions to my ball, I would pull out all his wing-feathers sooner than allow him. Worse than that would be the thought of allowing you or him or anybody to cut out the name of any friend of mine because he wasn’t fit to meet a Maharajah. All my friends are perfectly fit to meet anybody. So, my dear, you may put that into your own cigarette and smoke it.”
Probably Lord Cookham had never been so surprised, so wantonly outraged in his feelings since the unhappy day when he had been birched at Eton for telling lies, which subsequently proved to be true. Just as on that tragic occasion his youthful sense of his own integrity had rendered it impossible for him to conceive that the head-master should lift up his hand against his defencelessness, so now, even as Dodo’s tongue dared to lash him with these stinging remarks, he could hardly believe that it was indeed he who was being treated in so condign a manner. And she had not finished yet apparently....
On her side Dodo had (quite unexpectedly to herself) lost her temper. It was a thing extremely rare with he
r, but when she did lose it, she lost it with enthusiastic completeness. Up till a few minutes ago she had been vastly entertained by the glorious speeches of this master-prig, viewing him objectively and licking her lips at his gorgeousness. But then as swiftly as by the turning of a screw she viewed him subjectively and gazed no more at his gorgeousness but felt his impenetrable insolence. She proceeded:
“I appear to astonish you,” she said, “and it is a very good thing for you to be astonished for once. You must remember that I am sprung, as you said from the dregs of the people, and when you go away and think over what I am telling you, you may console yourself by saying that a fish-wife has been bawling at you. Now who the devil are you to order me about and invite my guests for me? Are you giving this ball, or am I? If you, ask your guests yourself, and don’t ask me. Try to get together a wonderful and historic gathering for your Maharajah on the night of the sixteenth and see who comes to you to make history, and who comes to me. What you wanted to do was to patronise me, and make yourself Master of the Ceremonies, and allow me to have this old Indian for my guest as a great favour. Who is this Maharajah of Bareilly anyway, that for the sake of getting him into my house I should submit to your insufferable airs? Who is he?”
After the first awful shock was over, Lord Cookham conducted himself (even as he had done on that occasion at Eton) with the perfect calm that distinguished him. He appeared quite unconscious of the outrage committed on him, and answered Dodo’s direct question in his usual manner.
“As a youth he was sent to Oxford,” he said, “where I had the honour of being a contemporary of his. I had been asked, in fact, to put him in the way of knowing interesting people and directing his mind, by example rather than precept, towards serious study. I was asked, in fact, to look after him and influence him in the way one young man can influence another slightly his junior. After leaving Oxford he spent several years in England, and was quite well known, I believe, in certain sections of London Society. Personally I rather lost sight of him, for he went in for sport and, in fact, a rather more frivolous mode of life than suited me. Pray do not think I blame him in any way for that. He succeeded to his principality only a few weeks ago, on the death of his father — —”
Dodo had stood up during her impassioned harangue, but now she sat down again. All her anger died out of her face, and her eyes grew wide with the dawning of a stupendous idea.
“It can’t possibly be that you are talking about Jumbo?” she asked.
“That I believe was the nickname given him at one time,” said Lord Cookham, “in allusion to the — —”
Dodo put both her elbows on the table, and went off into peals of inexplicable laughter; she rocked backwards and forwards in her chair, and the tears streamed from her eyes. For a long time she was perfectly incapable of speech, for at every effort to control her mouth into the shape necessary for articulate utterance, it broke away again.
“Oh, oh, I must stop laughing!” she gasped. “Oh, it hurts.... My ribs ache; it’s agony! What am I to do? But Jumbo! All this fuss about Jumbo! Jumbo was one of my oldest friends. How could I guess that he had become the Maha-ha-ha-rajah of Bareilly? Oh, Lord Cookham, I apologise for all I’ve said, and for all I’ve laughed. It’s too silly for anything! But why didn’t you say it was Jumbo at once, instead of being so pomp — no, I don’t mean that. I don’t know what I mean.”
Dodo collected herself, wiped her eyes, drank a little tea, choked in the middle and eventually pulled herself together.
“Jumbo!” she said faintly. “Is it possible that you never knew that Jumbo used to be absolutely at my feet! I suppose that belonged to the time when he was frivolous, and you lost sight of him. My dear, he used to send me large pearls, which I was obliged to send back to him, and then he sent them again. What they cost in registered parcel post baffles conjecture. What’s his address? I must write to him at once. He would think it too odd for words if I gave a dance and didn’t ask him. I wonder he has not been to see me already. When did he get to London?”
“Last night only,” said Lord Cookham. “He’s staying at — —”
At that moment the telephone bell rang.
“I believe in miracles,” said Dodo rushing to it.
“Yes, who is it?” she said. “You’re talking to Lady Chesterford.”
There was a second’s pause, and the miracle came off.
“Jumbo darling,” she said. “How delicious of you to ring me up on your very first morning. I should have been furious if you hadn’t. Oddly enough I’ve been talking about you for the last hour without knowing it, because you’ve been and gone and changed your name to Bareilly. What? Yes, of course, my dear. Come round in half-an-hour, and I’ll take you out, and you shall write your name wherever you please, and then you’ll come back and have lunch with me. What a swell you’ve become. Where’s Bareilly? I don’t believe you know. Shall I have to curtsey when I see you? This evening? No, dear, I can’t dine with you this evening, because I’m engaged, and I never throw anybody over. Yes, afterwards if you like. Alhambra? Yes, take a box there, and I’ll come on there as soon as ever I can. We’ll make more plans when we meet. Oh, by the way, put down at once that you’re dining with me on the sixteenth, and I’ve got a ball afterwards in honour of you. What?”
Dodo glanced at Lord Cookham.
“Yes, Lord Cookham has told me that he hasn’t made any engagements for you that night,” she said. “He’ll put it down in his book, so there won’t be any mistake. What?”
Dodo paused a moment, gave a little gasp, and spoke in a great hurry.
“Yes, Lord Cookham is here with me now,” she said. “In this very room I mean, close by me. Do you want to speak to him? All right then. Now I shall rush and have my bath, and then I’ll be ready for you.... Jumbo, don’t be frivolous. I’m not alone. Hush!”
During this remarkable conversation Lord Cookham’s long practise in dignity and self-possession had enabled him to appear quite unconscious that anything was going on. By the expression on his face he might have been sitting on the slopes of Hymettus, contemplating the distant view of the Acropolis, and hearing only the hum of the classical bees, so detached did he seem from anything that Dodo happened to be saying to the telephone. Being without the sense of humour, especially where he himself was concerned, and being also pleasantly encased in the armour of his own importance, it actually did not occur to him as possible that he was being spoken about from the other end of the telephone with anything but the deepest respect. Perhaps the instrument was not working well; that was why Dodo had said so very plainly that he was sitting in the room with her.
She put the receiver back on its hook, tried to be grave and once more broke down.
“I must send you away,” she said, “because I’m beginning to laugh again, and I must have my bath. And it’s all settled quite satisfactorily, isn’t it? Oh, dear me, what a funny morning we are having.”
Dodo made an heroic effort with herself and gave a loud croak as she swallowed the laughter that was beginning to make her mouth twitch again. Lord Cookham disregarded that, even as he had disregarded the telephone, but, though he would never have admitted either to himself or others that Dodo had failed in respect to him, some faint inkling that she had done so must have percolated into his inner consciousness, for when he spoke, he permitted himself to speak with irony, his deadliest and most terrific punishment for those who had been impertinent to him. When he addressed anyone with irony, he supposed that their souls popped and shrivelled up like leaves cast into a furnace.
“Good-bye, Lady Chesterford,” he said. “Your instructions to me then are that His Highness will dine with you and go to your dance on the sixteenth. I will have the honour of conveying them to the proper quarter.”
He did not look at her as he spoke, but addressed the air about a foot above her head. For a moment’s silence, in which, no doubt, her soul shrivelled, his austere gaze remained there. When she answered him, her voice trembled so mu
ch, that he felt he had been almost unnecessarily severe.
“Yes, that’s it,” she said. “What a nice talk we’ve had. Delicious of you to have spared me half-an-hour.”
She went out into the hall with him. Even as her footman opened the door for his exit, a motor drew up, and a huge and gorgeous figure stepped out. She saw Lord Cookham bow low, hat in hand, and next moment Jumbo caught sight of her, and bounded up the steps into her house.
“My dear, what fun!” she said. “How are you, Jumbo? You’re ever so welcome, though I did tell you to come in half-an-hour and not three minutes. Oh, it’s all been too killing! I’ll tell you every word as soon as I’m ready. Go into my room, and wait. I’m ever so glad to see you.”
Dodo was an admirable mimic. Jumbo, rolling about on the sofa almost fancied he was back at Oxford again being influenced by Lord Cookham.
CHAPTER V
A MAN’S HAND
Whenever Dodo was in London for a Sunday, as was the case on the day preceding her ball, she always gave up the hours until teatime, inclusive, to David’s uninterrupted society. They breakfasted together at half-past nine, and immediately afterwards, usually before Jack had put in an appearance at all, set off on the top of a bus, if the weather made that delightful form of progress possible, to attend service in the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral. A mere sprinkle of rain did not matter, because then they crouched underneath an umbrella, and played at being early Christians in a small cave, while if the inclemency was too severe for any reasonable Christian to remain in a small cave, they dashed to the tube-station at Down Street, and after traversing an extremely circuitous route, like early Christians in an enormous rabbit-burrow, emerged at Post Office Station, where another dash took them into shelter. It was in fact only on the most tempestuous Sundays of all that they were reduced to the degradation of ordering the motor, and going there in dull dignity.
They did not always wait for the sermon; David had the option of going away or remaining, for Dodo considered that a tired boy listening or not listening to a sermon was likely to get a gloomier view of religious practices than if he had been allowed to go away when he had had enough and play early Christians in a cave again. But he had to decide whether they should remain or go away while the preacher was being conducted to the pulpit, and it was stipulated that if he decided to stop he must abide by his choice and not retire in the middle of the sermon, since it was not polite to interrupt people when they were talking to you.
