"We met him in Egypt," she said. "He had been big-game shooting. I had
no idea he was an official."
I told her he was only a Parliamentary Under-Secretary. At that moment
there was a lull in the general conversation and Housman overheard us.
"Ayton," he broke in. "A pleasant fellow, not too much money, some fine
things, furniture, at his place, but he won't go far, no grit."
I asked Mrs Housman what he was like. She said they had made great
friends at Cairo but she did not think they would ever meet again.
"You know," she said, "these great friends one makes travelling, people,
you know, who are just passing by."
Miss Singer said he had an old house in Sussex. She had been over it. It
was let; there were some fine old things there.
"But he won't sell," said Housman. "He's not a man of business."
Mrs Carrington-Smith said she preferred impressionist pictures,
especially the Danish school. Housman laughed at her and said there was
no money in them. Miss Housman said she had heard from a dealer that
Lord Ayton had a remarkable set of Charles II. chairs and that she
wished he would sell them. Solway took no part in the conversation but
discussed music with Miss Singer. I caught the phrase, "trombones as
good as Baireuth." Mrs Housman asked me whether I had seen Ayton yet. I
told her he had not been to the office.
"I think you will like him," she said. Then, as an afterthought, "He's
not a musician."
She asked me whether there were any changes in the staff. I told her
none except for the arrival of a new Private Secretary (unpaid) whom
Lord Ayton is bringing with him, called Cunninghame. She had never heard
of him. We stayed a long time in the dining-room. Housman was proud of
his Madeira and annoyed with us for not drinking enough. Mr Randall said
he was sorry but he never mixed his wines, and he had some more
champagne. Randall, Carrington-Smith and Housman talked of the
international situation. Solway explained to me why portions of the
Ninth Symphony were always played too fast. He was most illuminating.
Then we went upstairs. More guests had arrived. A few people I knew, a
great many I had not seen before, Solway played some Bach preludes and
the Waldstein Sonata. The unmusical went downstairs. There were about a
dozen people left in the drawing-room.
Afterwards there were some refreshments downstairs. I got away about
half-past twelve.
_Tuesday, February_ 17_th. Gray's Inn_.
Our first day under the new regime. The new chief came to the office
to-day. He looks young, and was friendly and unofficial. The new Private
Secretary came too, Mr Guy Cunninghame, an affable young man. He wears a
beautifully tied bow tie. I wonder how it is done and whether it takes a
long time or not. He is well dressed, but when it comes to describing
him he is dressed like anyone else, and yet he gives the impression of
being well dressed. I don't know why. I suppose it is an art like any
other. I could not tie a tie like that to save my life. _Equidem non
invideo magis miror_.
He seems to have been everywhere, to have read everything and to know
everyone. He is not condescending, he is just naturally agreeable.
I had to go over to the Foreign Office in the morning to see someone in
the Eastern Department. When I came back Cunninghame told me that a Mrs
Housman had been to see Ayton, about some billet for her brother-in-law.
She talked to him first. Cunninghame said he thought she did not like
coming on such an errand. She then saw A., who said he would do what he
could. He told C. afterwards he was sure he couldn't do anything for the
fellow. C. had never met her nor heard of her, but curiously enough he
said he recognised her from her picture which he had seen, Walter Bell's
picture. I asked him if he had seen it at the New Gallery. He said no,
at a dealer's in America two years ago.
I asked him if he was sure it was the same picture. He said he was quite
sure. The picture was for sale.
"One couldn't mistake the picture," he said. "It's the best thing Walter
Bell ever did. His pictures are valuable now he is dead, but there was a
slump in them before he died, or rather, there never was a boom in them.
That one picture attracted a great deal of attention when it was first
exhibited, and then one heard little of him till he died. Now, of
course, his pictures fetch high prices."
_Letter from Guy Cunninghame to his cousin, Mrs Caryl_
LONDON,
_February_ 19_th_, 1909.