The Greatest Works of E. F. Benson (Illustrated Edition). E. F. Benson

The Greatest Works of E. F. Benson (Illustrated Edition) - E. F. Benson


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late than never," said Mr Merriall, who was rather addicted to quoting proverbial sayings. "I see that Mrs Shuttleworth's coming down here today. Do ask her to dine and perhaps she'll sing to us."

      Lucia paused for a single second, then clapped her hands.

      "Oh, what fun that would be!" she said. "But I don't think it can be true. Dearest Olga popped in — or did I pop in — yesterday morning in town, and she said nothing about it. No doubt she had not made up her mind then whether she was coming or not. Of course I'll ring her up at once and scold her for not telling me."

      Lucia found from Olga's caretaker that she and a friend were expected, but she knew they couldn't come to lunch with her, as they were lunching with Mr Pillson. She 'couldn't say, I'm sure' who the friend was, but promised to give the message that Mrs Lucas hoped they would both come and dine . . . The next thing was to ring up Georgie and be wonderfully cordial.

      "Georgino mio, is it 'oo?" she asked.

      "Yes," said Georgie. He did not have to ask who it was, nor did he feel inclined for baby-talk.

      "Georgino, I never caught a glimpse of you yesterday," she said. "Why didn't 'oo come round and see me?"

      "Because you never asked me," said Georgie firmly, "and because you never told me you were coming."

      "Me so sorry," said Lucia. "But me was so fussed and busy in town. Delicious to be in Riseholme again."

      "Delicious," said Georgie.

      Lucia paused a moment.

      "Is Georgino cross with me?" she asked.

      "Not a bit," said Georgie brightly. "Why?"

      "I didn't know. And I hear my Olga and a friend are lunching with you. I am hoping they will come and dine with me tonight. And do come in afterwards. We shall be eight already, or of course I should ask you."

      "Thanks so much, but I'm dining with her," said Georgie.

      A pause.

      "Well, all of you come and dine here," said Lucia. "Such amusing people, and I'll squeeze you in."

      "I'm afraid I can't accept for Olga," said Georgie. "And I'm dining with her, you see."

      "Well, will you come across after lunch and bring them?" said Lucia. "Or tea?"

      "I don't know what they will feel inclined to do," said Georgie. "But I'll tell them."

      "Do, and I'll ring up at lunchtime again, and have ickle talk to my Olga. Who is her friend?"

      Georgie hesitated: he thought he would not give that away just yet. Lucia would know in heaps of time.

      "Oh, just somebody whom she's possibly bringing down," he said, and rang off.

      Lucia began to suspect a slight mystery, and she disliked mysteries, except when she made them herself. Olga's caretaker was 'sure she couldn't say,' and Georgie (Lucia was sure) wouldn't. So she went back to her guests, and very prudently said that Olga had not arrived at present, and then gave them a wonderful account of her little intime dinner with Olga and Princess Isabel. Such a delightful amusing woman: they must all come and meet Princess Isabel some day soon in town.

      Lucia and her guests, with the exception of Sophy Alingsby who continued to play primitive tunes with one finger on the piano, went for a stroll on the green before lunch. Mrs Quantock hurried by with averted face, and naturally everybody wanted to know who the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland was. Lucia amused them by a bright version of poor Daisy's ouija-board and the story of the mulberry tree.

      "Such dears they all are," she said. "But too killing. And then she planted broccoli instead of phlox. It's only in Riseholme that such things happen. You must all come and stay with me in August, and we'll enter into the life of the place. I adore it, simply adore it. We are always wildly excited about something . . . And next door is Georgie Pillson's house. A lamb! I'm devoted to him. He does embroidery, and gave those broken bits of glass to the Museum. And that's dear Olga's house at the end of the road . . ."

      Just as Lucia was kissing her hand to Olga's house, her eagle eye had seen a motor approaching, and it drew up at Georgie's house. Two women got out, and there was no doubt whatever who either of them were. They went in at the gate, and he came out of his front door like the cuckoo out of a clock and made a low bow. All this Lucia saw, and though for the moment petrified, she quickly recovered, and turned sharply round.

      "Well, we must be getting home again," she said, in a rather strangled voice. "It is lunchtime."

      Mr Merriall did not turn so quickly, but watched the three figures at Georgie's door.

      "Appearances are deceptive," he said. "But isn't that Olga Shuttleworth and Princess Isabel?"

      "No! Where?" said Lucia looking in the opposite direction.

      "Just gone into that house; Georgie Pillson's, didn't you say?"

      "No, really?" said Lucia. "How stupid of me not to have seen them. Shall I pop in now? No, I think I will ring them up presently, unless we find that they have already rung me up."

      Lucia was putting a brave face on it, but she was far from easy. It looked like a plot: it did indeed, for Olga had never told her she was coming to Riseholme, and Georgie had never told her that Princess Isabel was the friend she was bringing with her. However, there was lunchtime in which to think over what was to be done. But though she talked incessantly and rather satirically about Riseholme, she said no more about the prima-donna and the princess . . .

      * * *

      Lucia might have been gratified (or again she might not) if she had known how vivacious a subject of conversation she afforded at Georgie's select little luncheon-party. Princess Isabel (with her mouth now full of Mrs Boucher's tomatoes) had been subjected during this last week to an incessant bombardment from Lucia, and had heard on quite good authority that she alluded to her as "Isabel, dear Princess Isabel."

      "And I will not go to her house," she said. "It is a free country, and I do not choose to go to her kind house. No doubt she is a very good woman. But I want to hear more of her, for she thrills me. So does your Riseholme. You were talking of the Museum."

      "Georgie, go on about the Museum," said Olga.

      "Well," said Georgie, "there it was. They all went in, and then they all came out again, and one of them was reading my catalogue — I made it — aloud, and they all screamed with laughter."

      "But I dare say it was a very funny catalogue, Georgie," said Olga.

      "I don't think so. Mr Merriall read out about Queen Charlotte's mittens presented by Lady Ambermere."

      "No!" said Olga.

      "Most interesting!" said the Princess. "She was my aunt, big aunt, is it? No, great-aunt — that is it. Afterwards we will go to the Museum and see her mittens. Also, I must see the lady who kills mulberry trees. Olga, can't you ask her to bring her planchette and prophesy?"

      "Georgie, ring up Daisy, and ask her to come to tea with me," said Olga. "We must have a weedj."

      "And I must go for a drive, and I must walk on the green, and I must have some more delicious apple pie," began the Princess.

      Georgie had just risen to ring up Daisy, when Foljambe entered with the news that Mrs Lucas was on the telephone and would like to speak to Olga.

      "Oh, say we're still at lunch, please, Foljambe," said she. "Can she send a message? And you say Stephen Merriall is there, Georgie?"

      "No, you said he was there," said Georgie. "I only described him."

      "Well, I'm pretty sure it is he, but you will have to go sometime this afternoon and find out. If it is, he's Hermione, who's always writing about Lucia in the Evening Gazette. Priceless! So you must go across for a few minutes, Georgie, and make certain."

      Foljambe came back to ask if Mrs Lucas might pop in to pay her respects to Princess Isabel.

      "So


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