One of Lucia's greatnesses lay in the fact that when she found anybody
out in some act of atrocious meanness, she never indulged in any idle
threats of revenge: it was sufficient that she knew, and would take
suitable steps on the earliest occasion. Consequently when it appeared,
from the artless conversation of the Guru at lunch that the perfidious
Mrs Quantock had not even asked him whether he would like to go to
Lucia's garden party or not (pending her own decision as to what she
was meaning to do with him) Lucia received the information with the
utmost good-humour, merely saying, "No doubt dear Mrs Quantock forgot
to tell you," and did not announce acts of reprisal, such as striking
Daisy off the list of her habitual guests for a week or two, just to
give her a lesson. She even, before they sat down to lunch, telephoned
over to that thwarted woman to say that she had met the Guru in the
street, and they had both felt that there was some wonderful bond of
sympathy between them, so he had come back with her, and they were just
sitting down to tiffin. She was pleased with the word "tiffin," and
also liked explaining to Daisy what it meant.
Tiffin was a great success, and there was no need for the Guru to visit
the kitchen in order to make something that could be eaten without
struggle. He talked quite freely about his mission here, and Lucia and
Georgie and Peppino who had come in rather late, for he had been
obliged to go back to the market-gardener's about the bulbs, listened
entranced.
"Yes, it was when I went to my friend who keeps the book-shop," he
said, "that I knew there was English lady who wanted Guru, and I knew I
was called to her. No luggage, no anything at all: as I am. Such a kind
lady, too, and she will get on well, but she will find some of the
postures difficult, for she is what you call globe, round."
"Was that postures when I saw her standing on one leg in the garden?"
asked Georgie, "and when she sat down and tried to hold her toes?"
"Yes, indeed, quite so, and difficult for globe. But she has white
soul."
He looked round with a smile.
"I see many white souls here," he said. "It is happy place, when there
are white souls, for to them I am sent."
This was sufficient: in another minute Lucia, Georgie and Peppino were
all accepted as pupils, and presently they went out into the garden,
where the Guru sat on the ground in a most complicated attitude which
was obviously quite out of reach of Mrs Quantock.
"One foot on one thigh, other foot on other thigh," he explained. "And
the head and back straight: it is good to meditate so."
Lucia tried to imagine meditating so, but felt that any meditation so
would certainly be on the subject of broken bones.
"Shall I be able to do that?" she asked. "And what will be the effect?"
"You will be light and active, dear lady, and ah--here is other dear
lady come to join us."
Mrs Quantock had certainly made one of her diplomatic errors on this
occasion. She had acquiesced on the telephone in her Guru going to
tiffin with Lucia, but about the middle of her lunch, she had been
unable to resist the desire to know what was happening at The Hurst.
She could not bear the thought that Lucia and her Guru were together
now, and her own note, saying that it was uncertain whether the Guru
would come to the garden party or not filled her with the most uneasy
apprehensions. She would sooner have acquiesced in her Guru going to
fifty garden-parties, where all was public, and she could keep an eye
and a control on him, rather than that Lucia should have "enticed him
in,"--that was her phrase--like this to tiffin. The only consolation
was that her own lunch had been practically inedible, and Robert had
languished lamentably for the Guru to return, and save his stomach. She
had left him glowering over a little mud and water called coffee.
Robert, at any rate, would welcome the return of the Guru.
She waddled across the lawn to where this harmonious party was sitting,
and at that moment Lucia began to feel vindictive. The calm of victory
which had permeated her when she brought the Guru in to lunch, without
any bother at all, was troubled and broken up, and darling Daisy's
note, containing the outrageous falsity that the Guru would not
certainly accept an invitation which had never been permitted to reach
him at all, assumed a more sinister aspect. Clearly now Daisy had
intended to keep him to herself, a fact that she already suspected and
had made a hostile invasion.
"Guru, dear, you naughty thing," said Mrs Quantock playfully, after the
usual salutations had passed, "why did you not tell your Chela you
would not be home for tiffin?"
The Guru had unwound his legs, and stood up.
"But see, beloved lady," he said, "how pleasant we all are! Take not
too much thought, when it is only white souls who are together."
Mrs Quantock patted his shoulder.
"It is all good and kind Om," she said. "I send out my message of love.
There!"
It was necessary to descend from these high altitudes, and Lucia
proceeded to do so, as in a parachute that dropped swiftly at first,
and then floated in still air.
"And we're making such a lovely plan, dear Daisy," she said. "The Guru
is going to teach us all. Classes! Aren't you?"
He held his hands up to his head, palms outwards, and closed his eyes.
"I seem to feel call," he said. "I am sent. Surely the Guides tell me
there is a sending of me. What you call classes? Yes? I teach: you
learn. We all learn.... I leave all to you. I will walk a little way
off to arbour, and meditate, and then when you have arranged, you will
tell Guru, who is your servant. Salaam! Om!"
With the Guru in her own house, and with every intention to annex him,
it was no wonder that Lucia took the part of chairman in this meeting
that was to settle the details of the esoteric brotherhood that was to
be formed in Riseholme. Had not Mrs Quantock been actually present, Lucia
in revenge for her outrageous conduct about the garden-party invitation
would probably have left her out of the classes altogether, but with her
sitting firm and square in a basket chair, that creaked querulously as
she moved, she could not be completely ignored. But Lucia took the lead
throughout, and suggested straightaway that the smoking-parlour would be
the most convenient place to hold the classes in.
"I should not think of invading your house, dear Daisy," she said, "and
here is the smoking-parlour which no one ever sits in, so quiet and
peaceful. Yes. Shall we consider that settled, then?"
She turned briskly to Mrs Quantock.
"And now where shall the Guru stay?" she said. "It would be too bad,
dear Daisy, if we are all to profit by his classes, that you should
have all the trouble and expense of entertaining him, for in your sweet
little house he must be a great inconvenience, and I think you said
that your husband had given up his dressing room to him."
Mrs Quantock made a desperate effort to retain her property.
"No inconvenience at all," she said, "quite the contrary in fact, dear.
It is delightful having him, and Robert regards him as a most desirable
inmate."
Lucia pressed her hand feelingly.
"You and your husband are too unselfish," she said. "Often have I said,
'Daisy and Mr Robert are the most unselfish people I know.' Haven't I,
Georgie? But we can't permit you to be so crowded. Your only spare
room, you know, _and_ your husband's dressing room! Georgie, I
know you agree with me; we must not permit dear Daisy to be so
unselfish."
The bird-like eye produced its compelling effect on Georgie. So short a
time ago he had indulged in revolutionary ideas, and had contemplated
having the Guru and Olga Bracely to dinner, without even asking Lucia:
now the faint stirrings of revolt faded like snow in summer. He knew
quite well what Lucia's next proposition would be: he knew, too, that
he would agree to it.
"No, that would never do," he said. "It is simply trespassing on Mrs
Quantock's good-nature, if she is to board and lodge him, while he
teaches all of us. I wish I could take him in, but with Hermy and Ursy
coming tonight, I have as little room as Mrs Quantock."
"He shall come here," said Lucia brightly, as if she had just that
moment thought of it. "There are Hamlet and Othello vacant"--all her
rooms were named after Shakespearian plays--"and it will not be the
least inconvenient. Will it, Peppino? I shall really like having him
here. Shall we consider that settled, then?"
Daisy made a perfectly futile effort to send forth a message of love to
all quarters of the compass. Bitterly she repented of having ever
mentioned her Guru to Lucia: it had never occurred to her that she
would annex him like this. While she was cudgelling her brains as to
how she could arrest this powerful offensive, Lucia went sublimely on.
"Then there's the question of what we shall pay him," she said. "Dear
Daisy tells us that he scarcely knows what money is, but I for one
could never dream of profiting by his wisdom, if I was to pay nothing
for it. The labourer is worthy of his hire, and so I suppose the
teacher is. What if we pay him five shillings each a lesson: that will
make a pound a lesson. Dear me! I shall be busy this August. Now how
many classes shall we ask him to give us? I should say six to begin
with, if everybody agrees. One every day for the next week except
Sunday. That is what you all wish? Yes? Then shall we consider that
settled?"
Mrs Quantock, still impotently rebelling, resorted to the most dire
weapon in her armoury, namely, sarcasm.
"Perhaps, darling Lucia," she said, "it would be well to ask my Guru if
he has anything to say to your settlings. England is a free country
still, even if you happen to have come from India."
Lucia had a deadlier weapon than sarcasm, which was the apparent
unconsciousness of there having been any. For it is no use plunging a
dagger into your enemy's heart, if it produces no effect whatever on
him. She clapped her hands together, and gave her peal of silvery
laughter.
"What a good idea!" she said. "Then you would like me to go and tell
him what we propose? Just as you like. I will trot away, shall I, and
see if he agrees. Don't think of stirring, dear Daisy, I know how you
feel the heat. Sit quiet in the shade. As you know, I am a real
salamander, the sun is never _troppo caldo_ for me."
She tripped off to where the Guru was sitting in that wonderful
position. She had read the article in the encyclopaedia about Yoga
right through again this morning, and had quite made up her mind, as
indeed her proceedings had just shown, that Yoga was, to put it
irreverently, to be her August stunt. He was still so deep in
meditation that he could only look dreamily in her direction as she
approached, but then with a long sigh he got up.
"This is beautiful place," he said. "It is full of sweet influences and
I have had high talk with Guides."
Lucia felt thrilled.
"Ah, do tell me what they said to you," she exclaimed.
"They told me to follow where I was led: they said they would settle
everything for me in wisdom and love."
This was most encouraging, for decidedly Lucia had been settling for
him, and the opinion of the Guides was thus a direct personal
testimonial. Any faint twitchings of conscience (they were of the very
faintest) that she had grabbed dear Daisy's property were once and for
ever quieted, and she proceeded confidently to unfold the settlements
of wisdom and love, which met with the Guru's entire approval. He shut
his eyes a moment and breathed deeply.
"They give peace and blessing," he said. "It is they who ordered that
it should be so. Om!"
He seemed to sink into profound depths of meditation, and Lucia hurried
back to the group she had left.
"It is all too wonderful," she said. "The Guides have told him that
they were settling everything for him in wisdom and love, so we may be
sure we were right in our plans. How lovely to think that we have been
guided by them! Dear Daisy, how wonderful he is! I will send across for
his things, shall I, and I will have Hamlet and Othello made ready for
him!"
Bitter though it was to part with her Guru, it was impious to rebel
against the ordinances of the Guides, but there was a trace of human
resentment in Daisy's answer.
"Things!" she exclaimed. "He hasn't got a thing in the world. Every
material possession chains us down to earth. You will soon come to
that, darling Lucia."
It occurred to Georgie that the Guru had certainly got a bottle of
brandy, but there was no use in introducing a topic that might lead to
discord, and indeed, even as Lucia went indoors to see about Hamlet and
Othello, the Guru himself having emerged from meditation, joined them
and sat down by Mrs Quantock.
"Beloved lady," he said, "all is peace and happiness. The Guides have
spoken to me so lovingly of you, and they say it is best your Guru
should come here. Perhaps I shall return later to your kind house. They
smiled when I asked that. But just now they send me here: there is more
need of me here, for already you have so much light."
Certainly the Guides were very tactful people, for nothing could have
soothed Mrs Quantock so effectually as a message of that kind, which
she would certainly report to Lucia when she returned from seeing about
Hamlet and Othello.
"Oh, do they say I have much light already, Guru, dear?" she asked.
"That is nice of them."
"Surely they said it, and now I shall go back to your house, and leave
sweet thoughts there for you. And shall I send sweet thoughts to the
home of the kind gentleman next door?"
Georgie eagerly welcomed this proposition, for with Hermy and Ursy
coming that evening, he felt that he would have plenty of use for sweet
thoughts. He even forebore to complete in his own mind the conjecture
that was forming itself there, namely, that though the Guru would be
leaving sweet thoughts for Mrs Quantock, he would probably be taking
away the brandy bottle for himself. But Georgie knew he was only too
apt to indulge in secret cynicisms and perhaps there was no brandy to
take away by this time ... and lo and behold, he was being cynical
again.
The sun was still hot when, half an hour afterwards, he got into the
open cab which he had ordered to take him to the station to meet Hermy
and Ursy, and he put up his umbrella with its white linen cover, to
shield him from it. He did not take the motor, because either Hermy or
Ursy would have insisted on driving it, and he did not choose to put
himself in their charge. In all the years that he had lived at
Riseholme, he never remembered a time when social events--"work," he
called it--had been so exciting and varied. There were Hermy and Ursy
coming this evening, and Olga Bracely and her husband (Olga Bracely and
Mr Shuttleworth sounded vaguely improper: Georgie rather liked that)
were coming tomorrow, and there was Lucia's garden-party the day after,
and every day there was to be a lesson from the Guru, so that God alone
knew when Georgie would have a moment to himself for his embroidery or
to practise the Mozart trio. But with his hair chestnut-coloured to the
very roots, and his shining nails, and his comfortable boots, he felt
extremely young and fit for anything. Soon, under the influence of the
new creed with its postures and breathings, he would feel younger and
more vigorous yet.
But he wished that it had been he who had found this pamphlet on
Eastern philosophies, which had led Mrs Quantock to make the inquiries
that had resulted in the epiphany of the Guru. Of course when once
Lucia had heard about it, she was certain to constitute herself head
and leader of the movement, and it was really remarkable how completely
she had done that. In that meeting in the garden just now she had just
sailed through Mrs Quantock as calmly as a steamer cuts through the
waters of the sea, throwing her off from her penetrating bows like a
spent wave. But baffled though she was for the moment, Georgie had been
aware that Mrs Quantock seethed with revolutionary ideas: she deeply
resented this confiscation of what was certainly her property, though
she was impotent to stop it, and Georgie knew just what she felt. It
was all very well to say that Lucia's schemes were entirely in accord
with the purposes of the Guides. That might be so, but Mrs Quantock
would not cease to think that she had been robbed....
Yet nothing mattered if all the class found themselves getting young
and active and loving and excellent under this tuition. It was that
notion which had taken such entire command of them all, and for his
part Georgie did not really care who owned the Guru, so to speak, if
only he got the benefit of his teachings. For social purposes Lucia had
annexed him, and doubtless with him in the house she could get little
instructions and hints that would not count as a lesson, but after all,
Georgie had still got Olga Bracely to himself, for he had not breathed
a word of her advent to Lucia. He felt rather like one who, when
revolutionary ideas are in the air, had concealed a revolver in his
pocket. He did not formulate to himself precisely what he was going to
do with it, but it gave him a sense of power to know it was there.
The train came in, but he looked in vain for his sisters. They had
distinctly said they were arriving by it, but in a couple of minutes it
was perfectly clear that they had done nothing of the kind, for the
only person who got out was Mrs Weston's cook, who as all the world
knew went into Brinton every Wednesday to buy fish. At the rear of the
train, however, was an immense quantity of luggage being taken out,
which could not all be Mrs Weston's fish, and indeed, even at that
distance there was something familiar to Georgie about a very large
green hold-all which was dumped there. Perhaps Hermy and Ursy had
travelled in the van, because "it was such a lark," or for some other
tomboy reason, and he went down the platform to investigate. There were
bags of golf clubs, and a dog, and portmanteaux, and even as the
conviction dawned on him that he had seen some of these objects before,
the guard, to whom Georgie always gave half-a-crown when he travelled
by this train, presented him with a note scrawled in pencil. It ran--
"Dearest Georgie,
"It was such a lovely day that when we got to Paddington Ursy and I
decided to bicycle down instead, so for a lark we sent our things on,
and we may arrive tonight, but probably tomorrow. Take care of
Tiptree: and give him plenty of jam. He loves it.
"Yours,
"HERMY.
"P.S.--Tipsipoozie doesn't really bite: it's only his fun."
Georgie crumpled up this odious epistle, and became aware that
Tipsipoozie, a lean Irish terrier, was regarding him with peculiar
disfavour, and shewing all his teeth, probably in fun. In pursuance of
this humorous idea, he then darted towards Georgie, and would have been
extremely funny, if he had not been handicapped by the bag of golf-clubs
to which he was tethered. As it was, he pursued him down the platform,
towing the clubs after him, till he got entangled in them and fell down.
Georgie hated dogs at any time, though he had never hated one so much
as Tipsipoozie, and the problems of life became more complicated than
ever. Certainly he was not going to drive back with Tipsipoozie in his
cab, and it became necessary to hire another for that abominable hound
and the rest of the luggage. And what on earth was to happen when he
arrived home, if Tipsipoozie did not drop his fun and become serious?
Foljambe, it is true, liked dogs, so perhaps dogs liked her ... "But it
is most tarsome of Hermy!" thought Georgie bitterly. "I wonder what the
Guru would do." There ensued a very trying ten minutes, in which the
station-master, the porters, Georgie and Mrs Weston's maid all called
Tipsipoozie a good dog as he lay on the ground snapping promiscuously
at those who praised him. Eventually a valiant porter picked up the bag
of clubs, and by holding them out in front of him at the extreme length
of his arms, in the manner of a fishing rod, with Tipsipoozie on a
short chain at the other end of the bag, like a savage fish, cursing
and swearing, managed to propel him into the cab, and there was another
half-crown gone. Georgie thereupon got into his cab and sped homewards
in order to arrive there first, and consult with Foljambe. Foljambe
usually thought of something.
Foljambe came out at the noise of the arriving wheels and Georgie
explained the absence of his sisters and the advent of an atrocious
dog.
"He's very fierce," he said, "but he likes jam."
Foljambe gave that supreme smile which sometimes Georgie resented. Now
he hailed it, as if it was "an angel-face's smile."
"I'll see to him, sir," she said. "I've brought up your tea."
"But you'll take care, Foljambe won't you?" he asked.
"I expect he'd better take care," returned the intrepid woman.
Georgie, as he often said, trusted Foljambe completely, which must
explain why he went into his drawing-room, shut the door, and looked
out of the window when the second cab arrived. She opened the door, put
her arms inside, and next moment emerged again with Tipsipoozie on the
end of the chain, making extravagant exhibitions of delight. Then to
Georgie's horror, the drawing-room door opened, and in came Tipsipoozie
without any chain at all. Rapidly sending a message of love in all
directions like a S. O. S. call, Georgie put a small chair in front of
him, to shield his legs. Tipsipoozie evidently thought it was a game,
and hid behind the sofa to rush out again from ambush.
"Just got snappy being tied to those golf-clubs," remarked Foljambe.
But Georgie, as he put some jam into his saucer, could not help
wondering whether the message of love had not done it.
He dined alone, for Hermy and Ursy did not appear, and had a great
polishing of his knick-knacks afterwards, while waiting for them. No
one ever felt anxious at the non-arrival of those sisters, for they
always turned up from their otter-hunting or their golf sooner or
later, chiefly later, in the highest spirits at the larks they had had,
with amazingly dirty hands and prodigious appetite. But when twelve
o'clock struck, he decided to give up all idea of their appearance that
night, and having given Tipsipoozie some more jam and a comfortable bed
in the woodshed, he went upstairs to his room. Though he knew it was
still possible that he might be roused by wild "Cooees!" and showers of
gravel at his window, and have to come down and minister to their gross
appetites, the prospect seemed improbable and he soon went to sleep.
Georgie awoke with a start some hours later, wondering what had
disturbed him. There was no gravel rattling on his window, no violent
ringing of bicycle bells, nor loud genial shouts outraging the decorous
calm of Riseholme, but certainly he had heard something. Next moment,
the repeated noise sent his heart leaping into his throat, for quite
distinctly he heard a muffled sound in the room below, which he
instantly diagnosed with fatal certainty as burglars. The first emotion
that mingled itself with the sheer terror, was a passionate regret that
Hermy and Ursy had not come. They would have thought it tremendous
larks, and would have invented some wonderful offensive with fire-irons
and golf-clubs and dumb-bells. Even Tipsipoozie, the lately-abhorred,
would have been a succour in this crisis, and why, oh why, had not
Georgie had him to sleep in his bedroom instead of making him cosy in
the woodshed? He would have let Tipsipoozie sleep on his lovely blue
quilt for the remainder of his days, if only Tipsipoozie could have
been with him now, ready to have fun with the burglar below. As it was,
the servants were in the attics at the top of the house, Dicky slept
out, and Georgie was all alone, with the prospect of having to defend
his property at risk of his life. Even at this moment, as he sat up in
bed, blanched with terror, these miscreants might be putting his
treasure into their pockets. The thought of the Faberge cigarette case,
and the Louis XVI snuff box, and the Queen Anne toy-porringer which he
had inherited all these years, made even life seem cheap, for life
would be intolerable without them, and he sprang out of bed, groped for
his slippers, since until he had made a plan it was wiser not to shew a
light, and shuffled noiselessly towards the door.