Nut-crackers
Goloshes
Pepper mill
Pond's Extract
Court Plaster
Order for newspapers
Garden seats
Fishing tackle
Cigars and cigarettes
Lavender sachets
Paper clips
Notepaper die.
Ben was taking Mr. Barclay Corbet at his word and making her own taste
control the whole scheme. This meant grey carpets and rose curtains,
all of which had to be put in hand instantly. Then there were rush
mattings and linos and rugs and blinds. Everything was new: there was
no time to hunt for the old; but it was the best new, and we saw that
every drawer opened easily. Fortunately two of the essentials of an
American's house that take most time to supply--central heating and the
telephone--were there already.
When it came to decorative inessentials we were cautious. Pictures,
for example. It is very difficult to buy pictures for other people, as
every one who has ever been in a hotel sitting-room will agree. Yet
there were those great bare, white distempered walls.
The pictures being an acute problem, Ben, with deep cunning, left them
to me.
"But I haven't seen your Barclay Corbet," I said. "A man can be
anything in the world until you've seen him. How can I choose? Does he
look like a hunting man?"
"No."
"That shuts out sets of coloured Alkens, which might be just the thing
for such a place: Alken, Sartorius, Ben Marshall, all those fine old
horsy fellows. Does he suggest exotic tastes?" I asked.
"No."
"That's puts a stopper on Japanese prints--as a rule such a safe line!
And oil paintings would cost too much. And mezzotints of beautiful
women, after Reynolds and Gainsborough, also dear, might not please
him."
It was then that Mr. Harford came to the rescue. "If he likes Bibury so
much," he said, "it follows that he must like Old England. I'll frame
up a lot of our water-colours--De Wint, Birket Foster, William Callow,
Tom Collier, David Cox, Varley--and if he likes them he can keep them,
and if not I'll take them back. And now I come to think of it, he
wanted to buy my dog, the swine! Called him a flea-trap! I've got some
engravings of spaniels and setters after Stubbs--I'll hang those in the
hall."
We settled the books in the same way. A certain number were decided
upon without any question, such as the "Encyclopædia Britannica,"
Dickens and Thackeray, and then a mixed collection was put together by
Mr. St. Quentin: to be retained or returned. All were supplied by that
enterprising firm "The Booklovers' Rest" on the principle, as Ben said,
of keeping Mr. Corbet in the family.
The few vases and bowls that were necessary were simpler: there are so
many non-committal shapes and colours now.
Mr. Harford did not confine himself to supplying the pictures and
books, but himself superintended their arrangement in the house,
and when I went down to Bibury for a last look round two or three
days before the time limit was up, in order to have the chance of
supplying any last-minute deficiencies that might occur to any of us,
I found that pleasant young gentleman among the people staying at the
inn. Although a second-hand book seller, he seemed to have views on
everything else too, together with a knack of getting things done,
while in addition he found time to throw a fly now and then over the
rapid waters of the Coln.
"Mr. Harford has been very kind," Ben said. "I'm sure he's needed in
London, for Mr. St. Quentin has sent him several telegrams; but he
wouldn't go back so long as there was any bother here."
We went over the house together, and it was undoubtedly an achievement.
Between us we had, I believe, covered the ground; Mr. Harford, with
diabolical thoroughness and perhaps a touch of malice, having actually
provided the library with a cuspidor.
The time being ripe, Ben and I returned to London--Mr. Harford, having
given in to his partner's S.O.S.'s the day before--for Ben preferred
not to be present when her client arrived. She argued that a house may
be described as more ready to live in if there is no one to welcome you
but your own people. But she left a little note expressing her hope
that she had succeeded in her task, and adding, "There is a corkscrew
in every room."