THE COLLECTED WORKS OF E. F. BENSON (Illustrated Edition). E. F. Benson
I always say, 'please, miss,' and then they are much pleasanter. I used to say 'I'm Princess Waldenech, please, miss,' but they never believed it, and said 'Garn!' But I was: darling Jack, I was! No, my days of leading the cotillion came to an end under William the Fourth. There is nothing so ridiculous as seeing an old thing— No, I'm not the Warwick Hotel? Do I sound like the Warwick Hotel?"
Dodo's face suddenly assumed an expression of seraphic interest.
"It's too entrancing," she whispered. "I'm sure it's a nice man, because he wants to marry me. He says I didn't meet him in the Warwick Hotel this morning. That was forgetful. Yes? Oh, he's rung off: he has jilted me. I wish I had said I was the Warwick Hotel: it was stupid of me. I wonder if you can be married by telephone with a clergyman taking the place of 'please, miss.' Where had we got to? Oh, yes, Hendrick's: three double-o seven, you idiot. I mean, please, miss. What? Thank you, miss. No, Nadine and Berts shall lead it."
"I would sooner lead with Lady Ayr," said Berts. "Nadine always forgets everything—"
"Oh, Hendrick's, is it?" said Dodo. "Yes, Lady Chesterford. I am really, and I want a band for the evening of December the first. No, not a waistband. Music. Yes, send somebody round." Dodo put down the ear-piece.
"Let us strive not to do several things together," she said. "For the moment we will concentrate on the cotillion. Jack dear, why did you suggest I should lead? It has led to so much talking, of which I have had to do the largest part."
"I want you to," he said. "I'll take you to Egypt in the spring, if you will. I won't otherwise."
"Darling, you are too unfair for words. You want to make an ass of me. You want everybody to say 'Look at that silly old grandmama.' I probably shall be a grandmama quite soon, if Nadine is going to marry Seymour in January—'Silly old grandmama,' they will say, 'capering about like a two-year-old.' Because I shall caper: if I lead, I shan't be able to resist kicking up."
Jack came across the room and sat on the table by her.
"Don't you want to, Dodo?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, darling, I should love to. I only wanted pressing. Oh, my beloved Berts, what larks! We'll have hoops, and snowballs, and looking-glass, and wooly-bear—don't you know wooly-bear?—and paper-bags and obstacles, and balance. And then the very next day I shall settle down, and behave as befits my years and riches and honor. I am old and Jack is rich, and has endowed me with all his worldly goods, and we are both strictly honorable. But I feel it's a hazardous experiment. If I hear somebody saying, as no doubt I shall, 'Surely, Lady Chesterford is a little old?' I shall collapse in the middle of the floor, and burst into several tears. And then I shall wipe my eyes, both of them if both have cried, and if not, one, and say, 'Beloved Berts, come on!' And on we shall go."
"You haven't asked Hugh yet," said Miss Grantham, looking at the list.
"Nadine did," said Dodo. "He said he wasn't certain. They argued."
"They do," said Berts. "Aunt Dodo, may I come to dine this evening, and have a practice afterwards?"
"Yes, my dear. Are you going? Till this evening then."
Dodo turned to Jack, and spoke low.
"Oh, Jack," she said, "Waldenech's in town. Nadine saw him yesterday."
"Glad I didn't," said Jack.
"I'm sure you are, darling. But here we all are, you know. You can't put him out like a candle. About the dance, I mean. I think I had better ask him. He won't come, if I ask him."
"He won't come anyhow, my dear," said Jack.
"You can't tell. I know him better than you. He's nasty, you know, poor dear. If I didn't ask him, he might come. He might think he ought to have been asked, and so come instead. Whereas if he was asked, he would probably think it merely insulting of me, and so stop at home."
"Don't whisper to each other," said Edith loudly. "I can't bear a husband and wife whispering to each other. It looks as if they hadn't got over the honeymoon. Dodo, I haven't had a single word with you yet—"
"Darling Edith, you haven't. If you only would go to the other end of the telephone, I would talk to you for hours, simply to thwart the 'please, miss' who asks if we haven't done yet. The only comfortable conversation is conducted on the telephone. Then you say 'hush' to everybody else in the room. Indeed, it isn't usually necessary to say 'hush.' Anybody with a proper interest in the affairs of other people always listens to what you say, trying to reconstruct what the inaudible voice says. Jack was babbling down the telephone the other day, when I particularly wanted to talk, but when he said 'Never let him shave her again,' how could I interrupt?"
"Did he shave her again?" asked Miss Grantham. "Who was she?"
"You shouldn't have said that," said Dodo, "because now I have to explain. It was the poodle, who had been shaved wrong, and she had puppies next day, and they probably all had hair in the unfashionable places. Please talk to each other, and not about poodles. Jack and I have a little serious conversation to get through."
"I will speak," said Edith, "because it matters to me. We've let our house, Dodo, at least Bertie let it, and has gone to Bath, because he is rheumatic; Berts can stay at the Bath Club, because he isn't, but I want to stay with you."
"The house is becoming like Basle railway-station," remarked Jack.
"Yes, dear. Every proper house in town is," said Dodo. "A house in London isn't a house, it is a junction. People dine and lunch and sleep if they have time. I haven't. Yes, Edith, do come. Jack wants you, too, only he doesn't say so, because he is naturally reticent."
Edith instantly got up.
"Then may I have some lunch at once?" she said. "Cold beef will do. But I have a rehearsal at half-past one."
The telephone bell rang, and Dodo took up the ear-piece.
"No, Lady Chesterford is out," she said. "But who is it? It's Waldenech, Jack," she said in a low voice. "No, she hasn't come in yet. What? No: she isn't expected at all. She is quite unexpected."
She replaced the instrument.
"I recognized his voice," she said, "and I oughtn't to have said I was unexpected, because perhaps he will guess. But he sounded a bit thick, don't they say? Yes, dear Edith, have some cold beef, because it is much nicer than anything else. I shall come and have lunch in one minute, too, as I didn't have any breakfast. Take Grantie away with you, and I will join you."
"I won't have cold beef, whatever happens," said Grantie.
Dodo turned round, facing Jack, as soon as the others had left the room, and laid her hand on his knee.
"Jack, I feel sure I am right," she said. "I don't want Waldenech here any more than you do. But after all, he is Nadine's father. I wish Madge or Belle or somebody who writes about society would lay down for us the proper behavior for re-married wives towards their divorced husbands."
"I can tell you the proper behavior of divorced husbands towards re-married wives," said Jack.
"Yes, darling, but you must remember that Waldenech has nothing to do with proper behavior. He always behaved most improperly. If he hadn't, I shouldn't be your wife now. I think that must be an instance of all things working together for good, as St. Peter says."
"Paul," remarked Jack.
"Very likely, though Peter might be supposed to know most about wives. Jack, dear, let us settle this at once, because I am infernally hungry, and the thought of Edith's eating cold beef makes me feel homesick. I think I had much better ask Waldenech to our dance. There he is: I've known him pretty well, and it's just because he is nothing more than an acquaintance now, that I wish to ask him. To ask him will show the—the gulf between us."
Jack shook his head.
"I prefer to show the gulf by not asking him," he said.
Dodo frowned, and tapped the skirt of her riding-habit with her whip. She was rather tired and very hungry, for she had been playing bridge till two o'clock the night