They were coming to lunch, and everybody was excited.
Mark and Dank were in their trousers and Eton jackets, and Roddy in his
new black velvet suit. The drawing-room was dressed out in its green
summer chintzes that shone and crackled with glaze. Mamma had moved the
big Chinese bowl from the cabinet to the round mahogany table and filled
it with white roses. You could see them again in the polish; blurred
white faces swimming on the dark, wine-coloured pool. You held out your
face to be washed in the clear, cool scent of the white roses.
When Mark opened the door a smell of roast chicken came up the kitchen
stairs.
It was like Sunday, except that you were excited.
"Look at Papa," Roddy whispered. "Papa's excited."
Papa had come home early from the office. He stood by the fireplace in
the long tight frock-coat that made him look enormous. He had twirled
back his moustache to show his rich red mouth. He had put something on
his beard that smelt sweet. You noticed for the first time how the
frizzed, red-brown mass sprang from a peak of silky golden hair under his
pouting lower lip. He was letting himself gently up and down with the
tips of his toes, and he was smiling, secretly, as if he had just thought
of something that he couldn't tell Mamma. Whenever he looked at Mamma she
put her hand up to her hair and patted it.
Mamma had done her hair a new way. The brown plait stood up farther back
on the edge of the sloping chignon. She wore her new lavender and white
striped muslin. Lavender ribbon streamed from the pointed opening of her
bodice. A black velvet ribbon was tied tight round her neck; a jet cross
hung from it and a diamond star twinkled in the middle of the cross. She
pushed out her mouth and drew it in again, like Roddy's rabbit, and the
tip of her nose trembled as if it knew all the time what Papa was
thinking.
She was so soft and pretty that you could hardly bear it. Mark stood
behind her chair and when Papa was not looking he kissed her. The
behaviour of her mouth and nose gave you a delicious feeling that with
Aunt Lavvy and Aunt Charlotte you wouldn't have to be so very good.
The front door bell rang. Papa and Mamma looked at each other, as much as
to say, "_Now_ it's going to begin." And suddenly Mamma looked small and
frightened. She took Mark's hand.
"Emilius," she said, "what am I to say to Lavinia?"
"You don't say anything," Papa said. "Mary can talk to Lavinia."
Mary jumped up and down with excitement. She knew how it would be. In
another minute Aunt Charlotte would come in, dressed in her black lace
shawl and crinoline, and Aunt Lavvy would bring her Opinions. And
something, something that you didn't know, would happen.