The fish for which Mrs Weston sent to Brinton every week since she did
not like the look of the successor to Tommy Luton's mother lay
disregarded on the dish, while with fork and fish-slice in her hand, as
aids to gesticulation, she was recounting to Colonel Boucher the
complete steps that had led up to her remarkable discovery.
"It was the day of Mrs Lucas's garden-party," she said, "when first I
began to have my ideas, and you may be sure I kept them to myself, for
I'm not one to speak before I'm pretty sure, but now if the King and
Queen came to me on their bended knee and said it wasn't so, I
shouldn't believe them. Well--as you may remember, we all went back to
Mrs Lucas's party again about half-past six, and it was an umbrella
that one had left behind, and a stick that another had forgotten, and
what not, for me it was a book all about Venice, that I wanted to
borrow, most interesting I am sure, but I haven't had time to glance at
it yet, and there was Miss Bracely just come!"
Mrs Weston had to pause a moment for her maid, Elizabeth Luton (cousin
of Tommy), jogged her elbow with the dishcover in a manner that could
not fail to remind her that Colonel Boucher was still waiting for his
piece of brill. As she carved it for him, he rapidly ran over in his
mind what seemed to be the main points so far, for as yet there was no
certain clue as to the purpose of this preliminary matter, he guessed
either Guru or Miss Bracely. Then he received his piece of brill, and
Mrs Weston laid down her carving implements again.
"You'd better help yourself, ma'am," said Elizabeth discreetly.
"So I had, and I'll give you a piece of advice too, Elizabeth, and that
is to give the Colonel a glass of wine. Burgundy! I was only wondering
this afternoon when it began to turn chilly, if there was a bottle or
two of the old Burgundy left, which Mr Weston used to be so fond of,
and there was. He bought it on the very spot where it was made, and he
said there wasn't a headache in it, not if you drank it all night. He
never did, for a couple of glasses and one more was all he ever took,
so I don't know how he knew about drinking it all night, but he was a
very fine judge of wine. So I said to Elizabeth, 'A bottle of the old
Burgundy, Elizabeth,' Well, on that evening I stopped behind a bit, to
have another look at the Guru, and get my book, and when I came up the
street again, what should I see but Miss Bracely walking in to the
little front garden at 'Old Place.' It was getting dark, I know, and my
eyes aren't like Mrs Antrobus's, which I call gimlets, but I saw her
plain enough. And if it wasn't the next day, it was the day after that,
that they began mending the roof, and since then, there have been
plumbers and painters and upholsterers and furniture vans at the door
day and night."
"Haw, hum," said the Colonel, "then do you mean that it's Miss Bracely
who has taken it?"
Mrs Weston nodded her head up and down.
"I shall ask you what you think when I've told you all," she said.
"Well! There came a day, and if today's Friday it would be last Tuesday
fortnight, and if today's Thursday, for I get mixed about it this
morning, and then I never get it straight till next Sunday, but if
today's Thursday, then it would be last Monday fortnight, when the Guru
went away very suddenly, and I'm sure I wasn't very sorry, because
those breathings made me feel very giddy and yet I didn't like to be
out of it all. Mr Georgie's sisters went away the same day, and I've
often wondered whether there was any connection between the two events,
for it was odd their happening together like that, and I'm not sure
we've heard the last of it yet."
Colonel Boucher began to wonder whether this was going to be about the
Guru after all and helped himself to half a partridge. This had the
effect of diverting Mrs Weston's attention.
"No," she said. "I insist on your taking the whole bird. They are quite
small, and I was disappointed when I saw them plucked, and a bit of
cold ham and a savoury is all the rest of your dinner. Mary asked me if
I wouldn't have an apple tart as well, but I said 'No; the Colonel
never touches sweets, but he'll have a partridge, a whole partridge,' I
said, 'and he won't complain of his dinner.' Well! On the day that they
all went away, whatever the explanation of that was, I was sitting in
my chair opposite the Arms, when out came the landlord followed by two
men carrying the settle that stood on the right of the fireplace in the
hall. So I said, 'Well, landlord, who has ordered that handsome piece?'
For handsome it was with its carved arms. And he said, 'Good morning,
ma'am no, good afternoon ma'am, it would be--It's for Miss--and then he
stopped dead and corrected himself, 'It's for Mr Pillson.'"
Mrs Weston rapidly took a great quantity of mouthfuls of partridge. As
soon as possible she went on.
"So perhaps you can tell me where it is now, if it was for Mr Georgie,"
she said. "I was there only two days ago, and it wasn't in his hall, or
in his dining room, or in his drawing room, for though there are
changes there, that settle isn't one of them. It's his treasure case
that's so altered. The snuff-box is gone, and the cigarette case and
the piece of Bow china, and instead there's a rat-tail spoon which he
used to have on his dinner-table, and made a great fuss with, and a bit
of Worcester china that used to stand on the mantelpiece, and a
different cigarette case, and a bead-bag. I don't know where that came
from, but if he inherited it, he didn't inherit much that time, I
priced it at five shillings. But there's no settle in the treasure-case
or out of it, and if you want to know where that settle is, it's in Old
Place, because I saw it there myself, when the door was open, as I
passed. He bought it--Mr Georgie--on behalf of Miss Bracely, unless you
suppose that Mr Georgie is going to live in Old Place one day and his
own house the next. No; it's Miss Bracely who is going to live at 'Old
Place' and that explains the landlord saying 'Miss' and then stopping.
For some reason, and I daresay that won't puzzle me long, now I can
give my mind to it, she's making a secret about it, and only Mr Georgie
and the landlord of the Arms know. Of course he had to, for 'Old Place'
is his, and I wish I had bought it myself now, for he got it for an old
song."
"Well, by Jove, you have pieced it together finely," said Colonel
Boucher.
"Wait a bit," said Mrs Weston, rising to her climax. "This very day,
when Mary, that's my cook as you know, was coming back from Brinton
with that bit of brill we've been eating, for they hadn't got an ounce
of turbot, which I wanted, a luggage-train was standing at Riseholme
station, and they had just taken out of it a case that could have held
nothing but a grand piano. And if that's not enough for you, Colonel,
there were two big dress-baskets as well, which I think must have
contained linen, for they were corded, and it took two men to move each
of them, so Mary said, and there's nothing so heavy as linen properly
packed, unless it's plate, and there printed on them in black--no, it
would be white, because the dress-baskets are black, were two initials,
O.B. And if you can point to another O.B. in Riseholme I shall think
I've lost my memory."
At this moment of supreme climax, the telephone-bell rang in the hall,
shrill through the noise of cracking walnuts, and in came Elizabeth
with the news that Mr Georgie wanted to know if he might come in for
half-an-hour and chat. If it had been Olga Bracely herself, she could
hardly have been more welcome; virtue (the virtue of observation and
inference) was receiving its immediate reward.
"Delighted; say I'm delighted, Elizabeth," said Mrs Weston, "and now,
Colonel, why should you sit all alone here, and I all alone in the
drawing room? Bring your decanter and your glass with you, and you
shall spare me half a glass for myself, and if you can't guess what one
of the questions that I shall ask Mr Georgie is: well----"
Georgie made haste to avail himself of this hospitality for he was
bursting with the most important news that had been his since the night
of the burglaries. Today he had received permission to let it be known
that Olga was coming to Old Place, for Mr Shuttleworth had been
informed of the purchase and furnishing of the house, and had, as
expected, presented his wife with it, a really magnificent gift. So now
Riseholme might know, too, and Georgie, as eager as Hermes, if not
quite so swift, tripped across to Mrs Weston's, on his delightful
errand. It was, too, of the nature of just such a punitive expedition
as Georgie thoroughly enjoyed, for Lucia all this week had been rather
haughty and cold with him for his firm refusal to tell her who the
purchaser of Old Place was. He had admitted that he knew, but had said
that he was under promise not to reveal that, until permitted and Lucia
had been haughty in consequence. She had, in fact, been so haughty that
when Georgie rang her up just now, before ringing Mrs Weston up, to ask
if he might spend an hour after dinner there, fully intending to tell
her the great news, she had replied through her parlour-maid that she
was very busy at the piano. Very well, if she preferred the second and
third movements of the Moonlight Sonata, which she had seriously taken
in hand, to Georgie's company, why, he would offer himself and his
great news elsewhere. But he determined not to bring it out at once;
that sort of thing must be kept till he said it was time to go away.
Then he would bring it out, and depart in the blaze of Success.
He had brought a pretty piece of embroidery with him to occupy himself
with, for his work had fallen into sad arrears during August, and he
settled himself comfortably down close to the light, so that at the
cost of very little eye-strain, he need not put on his spectacles.
"Any news?" he asked, according to the invariable formula. Mrs Weston
caught the Colonel's eye. She was not proposing to bring out her
tremendous interrogation just yet.
"Poor Mrs Antrobus. Toothache!" she said. "I was in the chemist's this
morning and who should come in but Miss Piggy, and she wanted a drop of
laudanum and had to say what it was for, and even then she had to sign
a paper. Very unpleasant, I call it, to be obliged to let a chemist
know that your mother has a toothache. But there it was, tell him she
had to, or go away without any laudanum. I don't know whether Mr
Doubleday wasn't asking more than he should, just out of
inquisitiveness, for I don't see what business it is of his. I know
what I should have said: 'Oh, Mr Doubleday, I want it to make laudanum
tartlets, we are all so fond of laudanum tartlets.' Something sharp and
sarcastic like that, to show him his place. But I expect it did Mrs
Antrobus good, for there she was on the green in the afternoon, and her
face wasn't swollen for I had a good look at her. Oh, and there was
something I wanted to ask you, Mr Georgie, and I had it on the tip of
my tongue a moment ago. We talked about it at dinner, the Colonel and
I, while we were eating our bit of partridge, and I thought 'Mr Georgie
will be sure to be able to tell us,' and if you didn't ring up on the
telephone immediately afterwards! That seemed just Providential, but
what's the use of that, if I can't remember what it was that I wanted
to ask you."
This seemed a good opening for his startling news, but Georgie rejected
it, as it was too early yet. "I wonder what it could have been," he
said.
"Well, it will come back to me presently, and here's our coffee, and I
see Elizabeth hasn't forgotten to bring a drop of something good for
you two gentlemen. And I don't say that I won't join you, if Elizabeth
will bring another glass. What with a glass of Burgundy at my dinner,
and a drop of brandy now, I shall be quite tipsy unless I take care.
The Guru now, Mr Georgie, no, that's not what I wanted to ask you
about--but has there been any news of the Guru?"
For a moment in this juxtaposition of the topics of brandy and Guru,
Georgie was afraid that something might have leaked out about the
contents of the cupboard in Othello. But it was evidently a chance
combination, for Mrs Weston went straight on without waiting for an
answer.
"What a day that was," she said, "when he and Miss Olga Bracely were
both at Mrs Lucas' garden-party. Ah, now I've got it; now I know what I
wanted to ask. When will Miss Olga Bracely come to live at Old Place?
Quite soon now, I suppose."
If Georgie had not put down his embroidery with great expedition, he
would undoubtedly have pricked his finger.
"But how on earth did you know she was coming at all?" he said. "I was
just going to tell you that she was coming, as a great bit of news. How
tarsome! It's spoiled all my pleasure."
"Haw, hum, not a very gallant speech, when you're talking to Mrs
Weston," said the Colonel, who hated Georgie's embroidery.
Luckily the pleasure in the punitive part of the expedition remained
and Georgie recovered himself. He had some news too; he could answer
Mrs Weston's question.
"But it was to have been such a secret until the whole thing was
ready," he said. "I knew all along; I have known since the day of the
garden-party. No one but me, not even her husband."
He was well rewarded for the recovery of his temper. Mrs Weston put
down her glass of something good untasted.
"What?" she said. "Is she going to live here alone in hiding from him?
Have they quarrelled so soon?"
Georgie had to disappoint her about this, and gave the authentic
version.
"And she's coming next week, Monday probably," he said.
They were all now extremely happy, for Mrs Weston felt convinced that
nobody else had put two and two together with the same brilliant result
as herself, and Georgie was in the even superior position of having
known the result without having to do any addition at all, and Colonel
Boucher enjoyed the first fruits of it all. When they parted, having
thoroughly discussed it, the chief preoccupation in the minds of all
was the number of Riseholmites that each of them would be the first to
pass on the news to, Mrs Weston could tell Elizabeth that night, and
Colonel Boucher his bull-dogs, but the first blood was really drawn by
Georgie, who seeing a light in Mrs Quantock's drawing room when he
returned, dropped in for a moment and scored a right and left by
telling Robert who let him in, before going upstairs, and Mrs Quantock
when he got there. It was impossible to do any more that night.
Lucia was always very busy of a morning in polishing the sword and
shield of Art, in order to present herself daily to her subjects in
shining armour, and keep a little ahead of them all in culture, and
thus did not as a rule take part in the parliament on the Green.
Moreover Georgie usually dropped in before lunch, and her casual
interrogation "Any news?" as they sat down to the piano, elicited from
him, as in a neat little jug, the cream of the morning's milkings.
Today she was attired in her Teacher's Robe, for the elementary class,
though not always now in full conclave, gathered at her house on
Tuesdays and Fridays. There had been signs of late that the interest of
her pupils was on the wane, for Colonel Boucher had not appeared for
two meetings, nor had Mrs Weston come to the last, but it was part of
Lucia's policy to let Guruism die a natural death without herself
facilitating its happy release, and she meant to be ready for her class
at the appointed times as long as anybody turned up. Besides the
Teacher's Robe was singularly becoming and she often wore it when there
was no question of teaching at all.
But today, though she would not have been surprised at the complete
absence of pupils, she was still in consultation with her cook over the
commissariat of the day, when a succession of tinklings from the
mermaid's tail, announced that a full meeting was assembling. Her maid
in fact had announced to her without pause except to go to the door and
back, though it still wanted a few minutes to eleven, that Colonel
Boucher, Mrs Weston, Mrs Antrobus and Piggy were all assembled in the
smoking-parlour. Even as she passed through the hall on her way 'there,
Georgie came hurrying across Shakespeare's garden, his figure distorted
through the wavy glass of the windows, and she opened the door to him
herself.
"_Georgino mio_," she said, "oo not angry with Lucia for saying
she was busy last night? And now I'm just going to take my Yoga-class.
They all came rather early and I haven't seen any of them yet. Any
news?"
Georgie heaved a sigh; all Riseholme knew by this time, and he was
going to score one more by telling Lucia.
"My dear, haven't you heard yet?" he asked. "I was going to tell you
last night."
"The tenant of Old Place?" asked Lucia unerringly.
"Yes. Guess!" said Georgie tantalizingly. This was his last revelation
and he wanted to spin it out.
Lucia decided on a great stroke, involving risks but magnificent if it
came off. In a flash she guessed why all the Yoga-class had come so
super-punctually; each of them she felt convinced wanted to have the
joy of telling her, after everybody else knew, who the new tenant was.
On the top of this bitterness was the added acrimony of Georgie, whose
clear duty it was to have informed her the moment he knew, wanting to
make the same revelation to her, last of all Riseholme. She had already
had her suspicions, for she had not forgotten the fact that Olga
Bracely and Georgie had played croquet all afternoon when they should
have been at her garden-party, and she determined to risk all for the
sake of spoiling Georgie's pleasure in telling her. She gave her
silvery laugh, that started, so she had ascertained, on A flat above
the treble clef.
"_Georgino_, did all my questions as to who it was really take you
in?" she asked. "Just as if I hadn't known all along! Why, Miss Olga
Bracely, of course!"
Georgie's fallen face shewed her how completely she had spoiled his
pleasure.
"Who told you?" he asked.
She rattled her tassels.
"Little bird!" she said. "I must run away to my class, or they will
scold me."
Once again before they settled down to high philosophies, Lucia had the
pleasure of disappointing the ambitions of her class to surprise,
inform and astonish her.
"Good morning to you all," she said, "and before we settle down I'll
give you a little bit of news now that at last I'm allowed to. Dear
Miss Olga Bracely, whom I think you all met here, is coming to live at
Old Place. Will she not be a great addition to our musical parties?
Now, please."
But this splendid bravado was but a scintillation, on a hard and highly
polished surface, and had Georgie been able to penetrate into Lucia's
heart he would have found complete healing for his recent severe
mortification. He did not really believe that Lucia had known all
along, like himself, who the new tenant was, for her enquiries had
seemed to be pointed with the most piercing curiosity, but, after all,
Lucia (when she did not forget her part) was a fine actress, and
perhaps all the time he thought he had been punishing her, she had been
fooling him. And, in any ease, he certainly had not had the joy of
telling her; whether she had guessed or really knew, it was she who had
told him, and there was no getting over it. He went back straight home
and drew a caricature of her.
But if Georgie was sitting with a clouded brow, Lucia was troubled by
nothing less than a raging tornado of agitated thought. Though Olga
would undoubtedly be a great addition to the musical talent of
Riseholme, would she fall into line, and, for instance, "bring her
music" and sing after dinner when Lucia asked her? As regards music, it
was possible that she might be almost too great an addition, and cause
the rest of the gifted amateurs to sink into comparative
insignificance. At present Lucia was high-priestess at every altar of
Art, and she could not think with equanimity of seeing anybody in
charge of the ritual at any. Again to so eminent an opera-singer there
must be conceded a certain dramatic knowledge, and indeed Georgie had
often spoken to Lucia of that superb moment when Brunnhilde woke and
hailed the sun. Must Lucia give up the direction of dramatic art as
well as of music?
Point by point pricked themselves out of the general gloom, and hoisted
danger signals; then suddenly the whole was in blaze together. What if
Olga took the lead, not in this particular or in that, but attempted to
constitute herself supreme in the affairs of Riseholme? It was all very
well for her to be a brilliant bird of passage just for a couple of
days, and drop so to speak, "a moulted feather, a eagle's feather" on
Lucia's party, thereby causing it to shine out from all previous
festivities, making it the Hightumest affair that had ever happened,
but it was a totally different matter to contemplate her permanent
residence here. It seemed possible that then she might keep her
feathers to line her own eyrie. She thought of Belshazzar's feast, and
the writing of doom on the wall which she was Daniel enough to
interpret herself, "Thy kingdom is divided" it said, "and given to the
Bracelys or the Shuttleworths."
She rallied her forces. If Olga meant to show herself that sort of
woman, she should soon know with whom she had to deal. Not but what
Lucia would give her the chance first of behaving with suitable loyalty
and obedience; she would even condescend to cooperate with her so long
as it was perfectly clear that she aimed at no supremacy. But there was
only one lawgiver in Riseholme, one court of appeal, one dispenser of
destiny.
Her own firmness of soul calmed and invigorated her, and changing her
Teacher's Robe for a walking dress, she went out up the road that led
by Old Place, to see what could be observed of the interior from
outside.