She sometimes, for example, substitutes rhubarb for
cherry tart quite out of her own head; and when balked of both these
dainties, and thrown absolutely on her own boundless resources, will
create a dish of stewed green gooseberries and a companion piece of
liquid custard. These unrelated concoctions, when eaten at the same
moment, as is her intention, always remind me of the lying down
together of the lion and the lamb, and the scheme is well-nigh as
dangerous, under any other circumstances than those of the digestive
millennium. I tremble to think what would ensue if all the rhubarb
and gooseberry bushes in England should be uprooted in a single
night. I believe that thousands of cooks, those not possessed of
families or Christian principles, would drown themselves in the
Thames forthwith, but that is neither here nor there, and the
Honourable Arthur denies it. He says, "Why commit suicide? Ain't
there currants?"
I had forgotten to say that we ourselves were all en grande
toilette, down to satin slippers, feeling somehow that it was the
only proper thing to do; and when Dawson had cleared the table and
ushered in the other visitors, we ladies took our coffee and the men
their cigarettes to the three front windows, which were open as
usual to our balcony.
We seated ourselves there quite casually, as is our custom, somewhat
hidden by the lace draperies and potted hydrangeas, and whatever we
saw was to be seen by any passer-by, save that we held the key to
the whole story, and had made it our own by right of conquest.
Just at this moment - it was quarter-past nine, although it was still
bright daylight - came a little procession of servants who
disappeared within the doors, and, as they donned caps and aprons,
would now and then reappear at the windows. Presently the supper
arrived. We did not know the number of invited guests (there are
some things not even revealed to the Wise Woman), but although we
were a trifle nervous about the amount of eatables, we were quite
certain that there would be no dearth of liquid refreshment.
Contemporaneously with the supper came a four-wheeler with a man and
a woman in it.
Sal. "I wonder if that is Lord and Lady Brighthelmston?"
Mrs. B. "Nonsense, my dear; look at the woman's dress."
W.B. "It is probably the butler, and I have a premonition that that
is good old Nurse with him. She has been with family ever since the
birth of the first daughter twenty-four years ago. Look at her cap
ribbons; note the fit of the stiff black silk over her comfortable
shoulders; you can almost hear her creak in it!"
B.G. "My eye! but she's one to keep the goody-pot open for the
youngsters! She'll be the belle of the ball so far as I'm
concerned."
Fran. "It's impossible to tell whether it's the butler or
paterfamilias. Yes, it's the butler, for he has taken off his coat
and is looking at the flowers with the florist's assistant."
B.G. "And the florist's assistant is getting slated like one
o'clock! The butler doesn't like the rum design over the piano; no
more do I. Whatever is the matter with them now?"
They were standing with their faces towards us, gesticulating wildly
about something on the front wall of the drawing-room; a place quite
hidden from our view. They could not decide the matter, although
the butler intimated that it would quite ruin the ball, while the
assistant mopped his brow and threw all the blame on somebody else.
Nurse came in, and hated whatever it was the moment her eye fell on
it. She couldn't think how anybody could abide it, and was of the
opinion that his ludship would have it down as soon as he arrived.
Our attention was now distracted by the fact that his ludship did
arrive. It was ten o'clock, but barely dark enough yet to make the
lanterns effective, although they had just been lighted.
There were two private carriages and two four-wheelers, from which
paterfamilias and one other gentleman alighted, followed by a small
feminine delegation.
"One young chap to brace up the gov'nor," said Bertie Godolphin.
"Then the eldest daughter is engaged to be married; that's right;
only three daughters and two h'orphan nieces to work off now!"
As the girls scampered in, hidden by their long cloaks, we could not
even discover the two we already knew. While they were divesting
themselves of their wraps in an upper chamber, Nurse hovering over
them with maternal solicitude, we were anxiously awaiting their
criticisms of our preparations.
Chapter XII. Patricia makes her debut.
For three days we had been overseeing the details. Would they
approve the result? Would they think the grand piano in the proper
corner? Were the garlands hung too low? Was the balcony scheme
effective? Was our menu for the supper satisfactory? Were there
too many lanterns? Lord and Lady Brighthelmston had superintended
so little, and we so much, that we felt personally responsible.
Now came musicians with their instruments. The butler sent four
melancholy Spanish students to the balcony, where they began to tune
mandolins and guitars, while an Hungarian band took up its position,
we conjectured, on some extension or balcony in the rear, the
existence of which we had not guessed until we heard the music
later. Then the butler turned on the electric light, and the family
came into the drawing-rooms.
They did admire them as much as we could wish, and we, on our part,
thoroughly approved of the family. We had feared it might prove
dull, plain, dowdy, though wellborn, with only dear Patricia to
enliven it; but it was well-dressed, merry, and had not a thought of
glancing at the windows or pulling down the blinds, bless its simple
heart!
