CHAPTER XIII
FURTHER IDLENESS
I
Strange, inconceivable as it may appear to people of the great world andreaders of newspapers, Mr. Prohack, C.B., had never in his life beforebeen inside the Grand Babylon Hotel. Such may be the narrow and meanexistence forced by circumstances upon secretly powerful servants of theCrown. He arrived late, owing to the intricate preparations of his wifeand daughter for Charlie's luncheon. These two were unsuccessfullypretending not to be nervous, and their nervousness reacted upon Mr.Prohack, who perceived with disgust that his gay and mischievous mood ofthe morning was slipping away from him despite his efforts to retain it.He knew now definitely that his health had taken the right turn, and yethe could not prod the youthful Sissie as he had prodded the youthfulMimi Winstock. Moreover Mimi was a secret which would have to bedivulged, and this secret not only weighed heavy within him, but seemeddisturbingly to counterbalance the secrets that Charlie was withholding.
On the present occasion he saw little of the Grand Babylon, for as soonas he mentioned his son's name to the nonchalant official behind theenquiry counter the official changed like lightning into an obsequiouscourtier, and Charles's family was put in charge of a hovering attendantboy, who escorted it in a lift and along a mile of corridors, andCharlie's family was kept waiting at a door until the voice of Charliepermitted the boy to open the door. A rather large parlour set with atable for five; a magnificent view from the window of a hugewhite-bricked wall and scores of chimney pots and electric wires, and amoving grey sky above! Charlie, too, was unsuccessfully pretending notto be nervous.
"Hullo, kid!" he greeted his sister.
"Hullo yourself," responded Sissie.
They shook hands. (They very rarely kissed. However, Charlie kissed hismother. Even he would not have dared not to kiss her.)
"Mater," said he, "let me introduce you to Lady Massulam."
Lady Massulam had been standing in the window. She came forward with apleasant, restrained smile and made the acquaintance of Charlie'sfamily; but she was not talkative. Her presence, coming as a terrificsurprise to the ladies of the Prohack family, and as a fairly powerfulsurprise to Mr. Prohack, completed the general constraint. Mrs. Prohackindeed was somewhat intimidated by it. Mrs. Prohack's knowledge of LadyMassulam was derived exclusively from _The Daily Picture_, where herportrait was constantly appearing, on all sorts of pretexts, and whereshe was described as a leader of London society. Mr. Prohack knew of heras a woman credited with great feats of war-work, and also with acertain real talent for organisation; further, he had heard that she hada gift for high finance, and exercised it not without profit. As shehappened to be French by birth, no steady English person was seriouslyupset by the fact that her matrimonial career was obscure, and as shehappened to be very rich everybody raised sceptical eyebrows at theassertion that her husband (a knight) was dead; for _The Daily Picture_implanted daily in the minds of millions of readers the grand truth thatto the very rich nothing can happen simply. The whole _Daily Picture_world was aware that of late she had lived at the Grand Babylon Hotel inpermanence. That world would not have recognised her from her publishedportraits, which were more historical than actual. Althoughconspicuously anti-Victorian she had a Victorian beauty of theimpressive kind; she had it still. Her hair was of a dark lustrous brownand showed no grey. In figure she was tall, and rather more than plumpand rather less than fat. Her perfect and perfectly worn clothes provedthat she knew just how to deal with herself. She would look forty in atheatre, fifty in a garden, and sixty to her maid at dawn.
This important person spoke, when she did speak, with a scarcelyperceptible French accent in a fine clear voice. But she spoke littleand said practically nothing: which was a shock to Marian Prohack, whohad imagined that in the circles graced by Lady Massulam conversationvaried from badinage to profundity and never halted. It was not thatLady Massulam was tongue-tied, nor that she was impolite; it was merelythat with excellent calmness she did not talk. If anybody handed her asubject, she just dropped it; the floor around her was strewn withsubjects.
The lunch was dreadful, socially. It might have been better if Charlie'sfamily had not been tormented by the tremendous question: what hadCharlie to do with Lady Massulam? Already Charlie's situation wassufficient of a mystery, without this arch-mystery being spread all overit. And inexperienced Charlie was a poor host; as a host he waspositively pathetic, rivalling Lady Massulam in taciturnity.
Sissie took to chaffing her brother, and after a time Charlie saidsuddenly, with curtness:
"Have you dropped that silly dance-scheme of yours, kid?"
Sissie was obliged to admit that she had.
"Then I tell you what you might do. You might come and live here with mefor a bit. I want a hostess, you know."
"I will," said Sissie, straight. No consultation of parents!
This brief episode overset Mrs. Prohack. The lunch worsened, to such apoint that Mr. Prohack began to grow light-hearted, and chaffed Charliein his turn. He found material for chaff in the large number of newlybought books that were lying about the room. There was even the_Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics_ in eleven volumes. Queerpossessions for a youth who at home had never read aught but theperiodical literature of automobilism! Could this be the influence ofLady Massulam? Then the telephone bell rang, and it was like a signal ofsalvation. Charlie sprang at the instrument.
"For you," he said, indicating Lady Massulam, who rose.
"Oh!" said she. "It's Ozzie."
"Who's Ozzie?" Charlie demanded, without thought.
"No doubt Oswald Morfey," said Mr. Prohack, scoring over his son.
"He wants to see me. May I ask him to come up for coffee?"
"Oh! Do!" said Sissie, also without thought. She then blushed.
Mr. Prohack thought suspiciously and apprehensively:
"I bet anything he's found out that my daughter is here."
Ozzie transformed the final act of the luncheon. An adeptconversationalist, he created conversationalists on every side. Mrs.Prohack liked him at once. Sissie could not keep her eyes off him.Charlie was impressed by him. Lady Massulam treated him with thefamiliarity of an intimate. Mr. Prohack alone was sinister in attitude.Ozzie brought the great world into the room with him. In his simperingvoice he was ready to discuss all the phenomena of the universe; butafter ten minutes Mr. Prohack noticed that the fellow had one solesubject on his mind. Namely, a theatrical first-night, fixed for thatvery evening; a first-night of the highest eminence; one of Mr. AspreyChown's first-nights, boomed by the marvellous showmanship of Mr. AspreyChown into a mighty event. The competition for seats was prodigious, butof course Lady Massulam had obtained her usual stall.
"What a pity we can't go!" said Sissie simply.
"Will you all come in my box?" astonishingly replied Mr. Oswald Morfey,embracing in his weak glance the entire Prohack family.
"The fellow came here on purpose to fix this," said Mr. Prohack tohimself as the matter was being effusively clinched.
"I must go," said he aloud, looking at his watch. "I have a veryimportant appointment."
"But I wanted to have a word with you, dad," said Charlie, in quite anew tone across the table.
"Possibly," answered the superior ironic father in Mr. Prohack, whobesides being sick of the luncheon party was determined that nothingshould interfere with his Median and Persian programme. "Possibly. Butthat will be for another time."
"Well, to-night then," said Charlie, dashed somewhat.
"Perhaps," said Mr. Prohack. Yet he was burning to hear his son's word.
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