As there was no stopping Nannie when once launched on the perfections of the Leslie family, Lady Waring got up.
“I really must go, Nannie,” she said. “Selina sent you her love and is coming down to see you to-morrow afternoon.”
“Tell her to bring an apron then,” said Nannie. “I’m turning out the big bedroom and she can give me a hand. All those curtains will have to be washed. I hope she is giving satisfaction, my lady.”
Lady Waring said, with truth, that Selina was a great help and she didn’t know what she would do without her, and so departed.
Apart from a meeting of the W.V.S. at the village hall at two o’clock, a meeting of the Red Cross at the vicarage at half-past three and a lecture at the convalescent home at five o’clock, Lady Waring had nothing to do. The lecture was provided once a week to amuse the men by the Army Education Officer at Winter Overcotes. The idea, namely that any local people who had anything interesting to tell should tell it, was a good one, but had the drawback that it necessarily included a number of people whom the soldiers would sooner have died than hear. Their likes and dislikes were incalculable. A lecture on the reconstruction of the Middle East after the war by Lord Bond had caused his audience to whistle “I’ve got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle” very softly to themselves. On the other hand, a talk by Mr. Tebben on “Some Aspects of the Elder Edda” had mysteriously kept them enchained for an hour and a quarter, while Mr. Middleton’s monologue on the “Antiquities of Skeynes” had caused such convalescents as were not directly under Sergeant Hopkins’s eye to melt like clouds in the silent summer heaven.
To-day the speaker was Dr. Ford from High Rising, who with his hands in his pockets told his audience exactly what would happen to them and what they would look like if in defiance of the War Office they neglected elementary precautions against various sub-tropical diseases. These unpleasant details were avidly supped up by his hearers, though the elder men permitted themselves some scepticism.
“Keep on at the whisky and you’ll be all right,” said Sergeant Hopkins to a small knot of friends when the lecture was over. “Whisky’ll tan you proper inside and then the bugs can’t get you. I was in the Cameroons last war, and I know.”
“Tan your inside if you like, but I know what it will look like,” said Dr. Ford as he passed, which so frightened Sergeant Hopkins that he rated Private Jenks severely for not getting himself and his chair out of the lady’s way.
“It isn’t a bit in my way,” said Lady Waring. “Come and have a cigarette, Dr. Ford. I would like to say a drink, but we literally have nothing but beer at the moment.”
Dr. Ford said there was nothing wrong with beer, so he and Lady Waring went by the passage into the servants’ wing. In the sitting-room they found Sir Harry reading the evening paper and delighted to see Dr. Ford, who was the friend of half the county. Local news was exchanged and Lady Waring asked after Mrs. Morland at High Rising.
“Very well,” said Dr. Ford. “The way that woman sits down and writes a book every year beats me. I can’t think where she gets all the ideas from. You ought to get her to come and talk to your men about writing novels. Might encourage a few budding writers.”
“Lord forbid!” said Sir Harry, frightened. “Don’t want that in the Army.”
“By the way, Dr. Ford,” said Lady Waring. “My niece is coming here for a rest. She had a kind of breakdown in London. If you are anywhere about, will you come and see her some time? Dr. Davies in the village is very nice, but I cannot quite fancy a woman doctor. I have to have her myself of course for politeness, and because she is taking our man’s practice while he is in the Middle East, and luckily as I’m quite well I don’t need her, but I think Leslie needs someone that really understands. She ought to be here at any moment now. Harry, did you tell the village taxi to meet her?”
Even as she spoke, the front door bell rang.
“Nice girl, your Leslie,” said Dr. Ford. “I’ll do anything I can for her. Who’s her doctor in town?”
Lady Waring mentioned a name.
“Oh, he’s all right,” said Dr. Ford. “Knew him at Guy’s when I was lecturing there. I’ll write to him. I look forward to seeing that young lady again.”
Selina opened the door and announced, “Captain Hooper and the other gentleman.”
“Jolly nice of you to ask me to come along, Lady Waring,” said the first officer, who from his three stars was evidently Captain Hooper. “This is quite an antique old place of yours, Sir Harry,” he added, shaking hands warmly with Dr. Ford.
“Eighteen seventy-two. Ford’s my name,” said Dr. Ford unsympathetically.
Captain Hooper shook hands with Sir Harry, evidently thinking but poorly of him for not being someone else. One must not, he said, let etiquette go by the board even in these times of change, and he must introduce Lady Waring to Major Merton. Everyone behaved extremely well.
“Etiquette is not the word,” said Dr. Ford, at which Captain Hooper laughed in a gratified way.
Sir Harry, who knew Dr. Ford’s intolerance for people to whom he took a dislike, hastily invited Captain Hooper to have some beer. Though far from being a drinker himself, said Captain Hooper, he would not say No to the offer. And by the way, he said, he thought a man of his, Sergeant Hopkins, was at the hospital and would much like a few words with him if possible. Sir Harry consulted his wife with a look, understood that the sooner Captain Hooper got what he wanted and went away the better, and took him away to the big house, accompanied by Dr. Ford who wanted to see Matron.
“Is Captain Hooper a friend of yours?” said Lady Waring to Major Merton.
“I only met him for the first time yesterday,” said Major Merton.
“And I only met him for the first time to-day,” said Lady Waring deliberately.
“In that case,” said Major Merton, offering Lady Waring a cigarette, which she gently refused, “I gather that we see eye to eye. Do you mind if I smoke?”
“Oh, please,” said Lady Waring. “And now we have a few moments to ourselves while our common friend is in the other part of the house, would you like to talk business? I gather from Captain Hooper that you are looking for some kind of lodgings for yourself and Mrs. Merton.”
“How few women would have said ‘common’ rather than ‘mutual’!” said Major Merton admiringly. “Yes, that is what I want. If you can give me any help in finding rooms, or a small house, or really anything, though in a caravan live I will not, my wife and I shall be more than grateful. We were married during the war and I have been moved about all the time, and we have no home except my old chambers in London.”
“You are a lawyer, then?” said Lady Waring.
“A barrister. I like to mention this because we pique ourselves on being the Senior Service. But I expect I’ve forgotten all the law I ever learnt. My wife’s people lived at Northbridge, but their house has been taken over.”
“I used to know a Mrs. Keith at Northbridge,” said Lady Waring. “She had a house near the river.”
“My wife’s mother,” said Major Merton.
“But then you ought to be called Carter,” said Lady Waring, perplexed.
“No, I do assure you I oughtn’t,” said Major Merton. “If I were Everard Carter I’d have married my sister-in-law, Kate Carter, and though I am very fond of Kate, that is what I will not have done. I married Kate’s younger sister, Lydia.”
“Oh, but Lydia!” said Lady Waring. “Now I know all about you. You are Noel Merton. Lavinia Brandon has often talked of you and your wife.”
“Bless that woman,” said Major Merton. “I have never known anyone so silly and so perfectly satisfactory. She has such an effect on me that I practically dance a minuet and flick a grain of snuff from my lace jabot whenever I see her.”
“I do so agree,” said Lady Waring. “Mrs. Brandon is really what would be called a Universal Favourite.”
“I could talk with you for ever,” said Major Merton warmly, “but time is flying and my gallant
and odious friend Captain Hooper may be back at any moment. Have you any hope for Lydia and myself? She is staying with the Carters till we can find somewhere near the camp.”
“Well, not at the moment,” said Lady Waring. “There isn’t a house for miles and my old Nannie who lets rooms in the village can’t promise anything just now because of Christmas holidays. But Captain Hooper did suggest that we might put you up here——”
“Insolent puppy,” said Major Merton.
“—and though I would sooner die than do anything to please Captain Hooper,” said Lady Waring earnestly, “it would really give me great pleasure to ask you and your wife to come and stay here, at any rate for a few weeks while you look about. Or Nannie’s rooms might be free. Or anything might happen. And I know Harry will be delighted.”
Major Merton accepted this offer with real gratitude. He was intelligent enough to realize that Lady Waring would not have made it unless she meant it, and hoped that he and his wife would give satisfaction. He also felt, with even more intelligence, supplemented by heart, that to accept a kindness without any self-deprecating argle-bargle (his phrase, not ours) was what would most please his hostess, who indeed looked as if she were pleased.
Just as they were approaching, sideways and with occasional withdrawals, the really interesting questions of whether Lady Waring would get her way and have the Mertons as her private guests while they looked for rooms, or Major Merton would have his way and come as a paying guest with his wife; thus leading on to the even more absorbing question of what was the most Lady Waring could bear to accept from her guests, or the least that the Mertons would allow themselves to be browbeaten into giving; and to the further consideration of whether the rent should include such few drinks as still existed (in which case Lady Waring was determined that Sir Harry should strain every sinew to get some sherry at least), or the Mertons should buy their own beer, wine and spirits in a phrase which now had little meaning (in which case Major Merton was determined that the Warings should drink knee to knee with him or he would throw it all out of the window); just, we say, as this fascinating topic presented itself, the further door was opened and a young woman in a tweed coat came in, with a small suitcase.
“Leslie!” said Lady Waring. “You are all wet. What on earth has happened? Didn’t the taxi meet you?”
“No one seemed to know anything about a taxi,” said Leslie Waring, with a flat, tired voice, but without resentment. “I tried to ring you up from the station, but your line was out of order. The station-master said he’d send my luggage up by the railway van in the morning, so I walked up and came in the back way. Rather nice to walk in the rain after that stuffy train.”
“My poor child,” said Lady Waring, and rang the bell.
Major Merton took Leslie Waring’s bag from her, helped her off with her coat and politely pushed her into a chair by the fire. Selina appeared.
“Please, my lady,” she began, “Mr. Coxon from the garridge is just rung up and says the line was out of order this afternoon or he’d have let us know sooner, my lady, that he couldn’t fetch Miss Leslie from the station because his taxi’s broken down and he tried two other places but there was nothing to be had and he seemed so upset about it. Cook said she knew the line was out of order because she tried to ring up the fish at lunch-time and they wouldn’t answer but she didn’t want to upset you, so she didn’t tell anyone, but Private Jenks said he’d ring up the exchange from the big house, and he’s just come in to say it’s all right now, so I thought you’d like to know, my lady.”
As it was obviously impossible to stem the flood of Selina’s speech, Lady Waring waited till she had finished, and looking towards the fireside where Leslie was almost hidden, lying back in a large arm-chair, said that Miss Leslie had walked up and would Selina take her things, and Miss Leslie would go to bed at once and have her dinner there.
“Really not, thank you so much, Aunt Harriet,” said Leslie, in the high voice of intense fatigue. “I’m not a bit tired, simply walking half a mile from the station. Besides, I’d loathe to go to bed. You’ll have to excuse my being a bit untidy, as I’ve only got my little case with things for the night. I’m really fearfully fit now. I wish you wouldn’t worry, Aunt Harriet.”
She got up as she spoke.
Her aunt stood undecided. It was obvious that Leslie must go to bed. People who had had breakdowns and walked uphill from the station, even if it was only a mile (and Leslie knew she wasn’t speaking the truth when she said half a mile), and had very wet feet (Leslie’s shoes had left dull patches on the pale gold carpet) were in no fit state to stay up to dinner. On the other hand Lady Waring had schooled herself to interfere as little as possible with the young, having with her usual sanity taken into account the fact that they would do whatever they wished, regardless of her wishes. She felt helpless, and inclined to slap her niece by marriage. But even as she hesitated Selina picked up Leslie’s suitcase, coat, gloves and scarf and hurried out of the room to run Miss Waring’s bath and put a hot bottle in her bed, pausing at the kitchen door to tell Cook how upset she had felt at seeing poor Miss Leslie looking so dreadful. And in the same moment Major Merton remarked how curious it was that great fatigue made women talk more and men talk less. But he said it so kindly and yet with such authority that Leslie, conscious that she had been almost hysterical a moment ago, felt no resentment, being now quite aware that she had spoken foolishly and at unnecessary length. Bed was an extremely attractive idea, and one would certainly look horrid at dinner with nothing to put on one’s feet but bedroom slippers, because it was years since she had grown out of Aunt Harriet’s.
“How wise you are,” said Major Merton.
She looked at him, common sense piercing her tiredness for a moment, and smiled.
“All right, Aunt Harriet, I’ll go,” she said. “Oh, an officer at the station carried my suitcase up. I did ask him to come in, but he was late already as the camp had forgotten to send a car for him and he’d have to walk. If he rings up, will Selina take a message for me.”
As she finished speaking Sir Harry came back with Captain Hooper and Dr. Ford. Sir Harry kissed his niece heartily.
“Here is an old friend, Leslie,” said Lady Waring, “Dr. Ford. And this is Captain Hooper—my niece, Miss Waring.”
“A pleasure, I’m sure,” said Captain Hooper.
At the door Leslie turned.
“Oh, his name was Colonel Winter,” she said.
Major Merton looked interested.
“I’ll remember, dear,” said Lady Waring. “Go straight to bed now. Every one will excuse you. Leslie hasn’t been well and she had to walk up from the station because of a stupid mistake about the taxi,” she added to the company in general, and Leslie went away.
“And what is this about our Colonel Winter?” said Captain Hooper waggishly.
“Is he at the camp?” asked Lady Waring, wishing Captain Hooper would go.
“Not yet,” said Captain Hooper, “if the young lady says he was walking. We might pick him up and give him a lift. He’s only attached to us for a course. Not quite your sort, Lady Waring. Schoolmaster in private life, you know. They’re all a bit morbid. He hasn’t got the right idear about Russiar either. Oh, definitely not quite, our Philip.”
“Philip Winter is an old friend of mine,” said Major Merton, addressing himself pointedly to Lady Waring. “I didn’t know he was here. He is a very brilliant Latin scholar when he isn’t a soldier.”
“Not the Winter who wrote that little book about Horace?” said Sir Harry, who had always kept up an interest in the classics. “The kind of book an old amateur like myself can thoroughly enjoy. We must have him here, my dear.”
Captain Hooper said no one would be learning Latin in a few years and mensar and all that useless rot. Biology and aerodynamics and sensible stuff, he said.
“And we must be off, sir,” he added to Major Merton. “Time and tide, you know. Is it all fixed?”
“Lady Waring h
as been kind enough to ask my wife and myself here for a few days,” said Major Merton, trying hard to remember that Captain Hooper was a conscientious soldier who had got promotion by hard work (for of this and many other things Major Merton had been informed before coming to the camp).
“Well, you’ll be better off than I was in my last billets,” said Captain Hooper. “That was in ’40. Place called Northbridge. I was at the rectory. Well, well. Meals with the Rector and Mrs. Rector—Villars, that was the name. Not at all your style, sir.”
“Verena Villars? Cousin of mine. A most delightful woman,” said Sir Harry. “Good-looker too. Her second boy has bombed Italy six times.”
Major Merton so far forgot himself as to cast a despairing look at Lady Waring and met a gleam of amusement. He said good-bye, promised to ring Lady Waring up next morning, and went away with Captain Hooper.
“New Army!” said Sir Harry, very unfairly. “He managed to get across Merton in two minutes. We shan’t need to have him here again, my dear, shall we?”
“I don’t think we shall have much say in the matter if he decides to come,” said Lady Waring with a sigh. “But it was you who told him he could come, you know.”
“I admit it,” said Sir Harry thoughtfully. “I must say I didn’t much care for the fellow when I met him at the camp and I must say I like him even less in the house. But the Colonel says he’s a good officer. Perhaps after the war we’ll be able to have our house to ourselves.”
“Or no house at all,” said Lady Waring sadly.
“Or a house and no one in it, like me,” said Dr. Ford.
Sir Harry and Lady Waring made sympathetic noises, for Dr. Ford was well known to have broken his heart twice: once when Mrs. Morland’s secretary Anne Todd married the well-known biographer George Knox, and again when the vicar’s elder daughter broke off her engagement to him, in which she was probably wise, as though a very nice girl she was at least twenty years younger than he was and quite unsuitable. Since these calamities he had remained a peaceful bachelor, getting, as his old friend Mrs. Morland often told him, far too much sympathy on false pretences.
Growing Up Page 6