RED GABLES
AN hour later, shopping commissions having been executed, they clanked
majestically homeward. The journey was completed without further mishap,
though a frisky calf, encountered by the way, almost wrecked its own
prospects of ever becoming veal by an untimely indulgence in the game of
"Come to Mother, or Last Across the Road,"--that was how Mr. Mablethorpe
described it,--gambolling unexpectedly under the very bows of Boanerges
in response to the ill-judged appeal of an anxious parent on the
opposite side of the highway.
Presently the long red wall, with its polite notice to motorists, came
into view on their left, and the car slowed down. Philip realised with
pleasure that this was his destination.
"Did you put up that notice, sir?" he enquired.
"I put it up," replied Mr. Mablethorpe, "but my daughter composed it.
She makes rather a special feature of the common courtesies of life.
Mind your elbow against that gatepost."
Two minutes later Philip found himself being presented to a languid but
still pretty lady, who assured him, in a speech which appeared in some
curious way to be addressed to Mr. Mablethorpe rather than himself, that
she was charmed to meet him, in spite of a headache, and that she had no
doubt that fresh servants would ultimately be forthcoming to take the
places of those whose resignations the introduction of an unexpected boy
into a hitherto tranquil household would naturally precipitate. Adding a
mournful postscript to the effect that Philip would doubtless have made
an admirable secretary for her husband, but for the fact that his uncle
would inevitably insist upon his speedy return to Holly Lodge, Mrs.
Mablethorpe, with a look of patient endurance upon her delicate
features, faded away upstairs, to bedew herself with eau-de-Cologne and
partake of luncheon in bed.
"Friends," observed Mr. Mablethorpe solemnly as his wife disappeared,
"are requested to accept this (the only) intimation and invitation. Now,
Philip, come and be introduced to my daughter."
The three spent a perfectly happy afternoon together. Miss Dumpling
treated "the new inmate," as Mr. Mablethorpe called Philip, with marked
favour, introducing him _seriatim_ to three cows, named respectively
Boo, Moo, and Coo; a family of lop-eared rabbits; and an aged gramophone
suffering from bronchial weakness.
Towards tea-time Mr. Mablethorpe, who knew his wife almost as well as he
loved her, penetrated to the invalid's bedroom, and there apologised in
the most handsome manner for several crimes which he had not committed.
Mrs. Mablethorpe, having delivered herself of a brief homily upon the
whole duty of a husband entrusted with the care of a delicate wife, now
felt sufficiently recovered to come downstairs and partake of a tea of
encouraging dimensions.
Philip surveyed her curiously. His feminine horizon was enlarging
itself.
"Julius, dear," observed Mrs. Mablethorpe presently, "I know, of course,
that it is perfectly useless to say anything to you about Baby's
upbringing,--the child is ruined for life by this time,--but I must
protest, however feebly, against your feeding her with that sweet and
sticky cake. We shall have her running in and out of the dentist's every
five minutes in a year or two."
"You hear that, Daniel Lambert?" asked Mr. Mablethorpe of his ruined
child. "Mother says we aren't to have any more cake. I think it is most
tyrannical of her: she knows how we love running in and out of the
dentist's. But we must obey orders. About turn, and let us get back to
the bread-and-butter! Come on--I'll race you!"
Mr. Mablethorpe began to munch bread-and-butter with enormous
enthusiasm, and poor Dumps, reluctantly laying down a generous slice of
plum-cake, followed his example. But when the trio finally obtained
permission to retire to the library and play at "wolves"--a pastime to
which it appeared that Mr. Mablethorpe was much addicted--and tumbled
upstairs together, Philip overheard the unregenerate father whisper to
his daughter:--
"If you wish a wish and then feel in my pocket, old lady, you may find
something."
In the library the Dumpling offered Philip a share in a large slice of
plum-cake.
Philip went to bed that evening in the room which had been prepared for
his reception (fortunately without causing any break-up in the staff of
the establishment), but did not sleep for a long while. He had much to
think of. It seemed almost incredible that he had left Holly Lodge only
yesterday, and that it was only last night that he had slept with the
wolf-scarers in Montagu Falconer's studio; yet it was a fact. The
remembrance of the studio brought back visions of Peggy. He wondered
when, if ever, he should see her again. He compared her with Dumps, but
quickly realised that comparisons were impossible. Dumps was a decent
little kid, though fat, but she was not Pegs.
Then he thought of Dumps's parents, and he began to understand that it
takes all sorts to make a world. He was beginning to realise the
importance, in every department of life, of "making allowances." This
duty was not confined to one sex, as he had previously imagined. Mrs.
Falconer, it was true, spent her life in making allowances for Mr.
Falconer. But here was Mr. Mablethorpe doing precisely the same thing
for Mrs. Mablethorpe.
Finally, he thought of Uncle Joseph and the Beautiful Lady. Perhaps, he
reflected, if these two had made allowances for one another earlier in
life their coming together would not have been delayed for ten years.
Incidentally he made a note that, dragons having become obsolete, a
knight might do worse than set out to persuade people to make allowances
for one another.