Priscilla's Spies Part 15

"Before she was married," said Priscilla, "Mrs. Geraghty?that's the woman at the gate lodge, the mother of those four children?was our upper housemaid. Aunt Juliet simply loved her. She rubs her into all the other servants day and night. She says she was the only sufficient housemaid.

I'm not sure that that's quite the right word. It may be efficient Any how she says she's the only something-or-other-ficient housemaid she ever had; which of course is a grand thing for Mrs. Geraghty, though not really as nice as it seems, because whenever anything perfectly appalling happens Aunt Juliet sends for her. Then she and Aunt Juliet rag the other servants until things get smoothed out again. The minute I saw those children sporting about when by rights they ought to be in bed I knew that Mrs. Geraghty had been sent for. Now you understand the sort of thing you have to expect when we get home. I thought I'd just warn you, so that you wouldn't be taken by surprise."

Frank felt that he still might be taken by surprise and urged Priscilla to give him some further details about the catastrophe.

"We'll find out soon enough," said Priscilla. "At least we may. If it's the kind of thing that's visible, streams of water running down the front stairs or anything like that, we'll see for ourselves, but if it happens to be a more inward sort of disaster which we can't see?and that's the kind there's always the worst fuss about?then it may take us some time to find out. Aunt Juliet doesn't think it's good for children to know about inward disasters, and so she never talks of them when I'm there except in what she calls French, and not much of that because Father can't understand her. They may, of course, confide in you. It all depends on whether they think you're a child or not."

"I'm not."

"_I_ know that, of course. And Aunt Juliet saw you in your evening coat last night at dinner, so she oughtn't to. But you never can tell about things of that kind. Look at the sponge lady for instance. She said you were the nicest child she ever saw. Still they may tell you."

Frank did not like being reminded of Miss Rutherford's remark.

Priscilla's repet.i.tion of it goaded him to a reply which he immediately afterwards felt to be unworthy.

"If they do tell me," he said, "I won't tell you."

"Then you'll be a mean, low beast," said Priscilla.

Frank pulled himself together with an effort. He realised that it would never do to bandy schoolboy repartee with Priscilla. His loss of dignity would be complete. And besides, he was very likely to get the worst of the encounter. He was out of practise. Prefects do not descend to personalities.

"My dear Priscilla," he said, "I only meant that I wouldn't tell you if it was the sort of thing a girl oughtn't to hear."

"Like what Jimmy Kinsella has on Inishbawn," said Priscilla. "Do you know, Cousin Frank, you're quite too funny for words when you go in for being grand. Now would you like me to wheel you up to the hall-door and ring the bell, or would you rather we sneaked round through the shrubbery into the yard, and got in by the gunroom door and so up the back stairs?"

"I don't care," said Frank.

"The back way would be the wisest," said Priscilla, "but in the state of grandeur you're in now??"

"Oh, do drop it, Priscilla."

"I don't want to keep it up."

"Then go by the back door."

"Do you promise to tell me all about it, supposing they tell you, and they may? You can never be sure what they'll do."

"Yes, I promise."

"A faithful, solemn oath?"

"Yes."

"Whether it's the sort of thing a girl ought to be told or not?"

"Yes. Only do go on. It'll take me hours to dress, and we're awfully late already."

Priscilla trotted briskly through the shrubbery, crossed the yard and helped Frank out of the chair at the gunroom door. She gave him her arm while he hobbled up the back stairs. At the top of the first flight she deserted him suddenly. She darted forward, half opened a baize covered swing door and peeped through.

"I just thought I heard them at it," she said. "Mrs. Geraghty and the two housemaids are rioting in the long gallery, dragging the furniture about and, generally speaking, playing old hokey. That gives us a certain amount of information, Cousin Frank."

CHAPTER X

ROSNACREE HOUSE was built early in the 19th century by the Lentaigne of that day, one Sir Francis. At the beginning of that century the Irish gentry were still an aristocracy. They ruled, and had among their number men who were gentlemen of the grand style, capable of virile pa.s.sions and striking deeds, incapable, const.i.tutionally and by training, of the prudent foresight of careful tradesmen. Lord Thormanby, who rejoiced in a brand new Union peerage and was a wealthy man, kept race horses. Sir Francis, who, except for the Union peerage, was as big a man as Lord Thormanby, kept race horses too. Lord Thormanby bought a family coach of remarkable proportions. Sir Francis ordered a duplicate of it from the same coach-builder. Lord Thormanby employed an Italian architect to build him a house. Sir Francis sought out the same architect and gave him orders to build another house, identical with Lord Thormanby's in design, but having each room two feet longer, two feet higher and two feet broader than the corresponding room at Thormanby Park. The architect, after talking a good deal about proportions in a way which Sir Francis did not understand, accepted the commission and erected Rosnacree House.

The two additional cubic feet made all the difference. Lord Thormanby's fortune survived the building operations. Lord Francis Lentaigne's estate was crippled.

His successors struggled with a burden of mortgages and a mansion considerably too large for their requirements. Sir Lucius, when his turn came, shut up the great gallery, which ran the whole length of the second storey of the house, and lived with a tolerable amount of elbow room in five downstairs sitting rooms and fourteen bedrooms. Miss Lentaigne made occasional raids on the gallery in order to see that the fine old-fas.h.i.+oned furniture did not rot. Neither she nor her brother thought of using the room.

For Frank Mannix the white tie which is worn in the evening was still something of a novelty and therefore a difficulty. He was struggling with it, convinced of the great importance of having the two sides of its bow symmetrical, when Priscilla tapped at his bedroom door. In response to his invitation to enter she opened the door half way and put her head and shoulders into the room.

"I thought I'd just tell you as I was pa.s.sing," she said, "that it's all right about your ankle."

Frank, who had just re-bandaged the injured limb, asked her what she meant.

"I've seen Aunt Juliet," she said, "and I find that she's quite dropped Christian Science and is frightfully keen on Woman's Suffrage. That's always the way with her. When she's done with a thing she simply hoofs it without a word of apology to anyone. It was the same with the uric acid. She'd talk of nothing else in the morning and before night it was withered like the flower of the field upon the housetop, 'whereof the mower filleth not his arm.' I expect you know the sort I mean."

She shut the door and Frank heard her running down the pa.s.sage. A couple of minutes later he heard her running back again. This time she opened the door without tapping.

"I can't think," she said, "what Woman's Suffrage can possibly have to do with the big gallery, but they must be mixed up somehow or Mrs.

Geraghty and the housemaids wouldn't be sporting about the way they are.

They're at it still. I've just looked in at them."

During dinner the conversation was very largely political. Sir Lucius inveighed with great bitterness against the government's policy in Ireland. Now and then he recollected that Frank's father was a supporter of the government. Then he made such excuses for the Cabinet's blundering as he could. Miss Lentaigne also condemned the government, though less for its incurable habit for truckling to the forces of disorder in Ireland, than for its cowardly and treacherous treatment of women. She made no attempt to spare Frank's feelings. Indeed, she pointed many of her remarks by uncomplimentary references to Lord Torrington, Secretary of State for War, and the immediate chief of Mr.

Edward Mannix, M.P. Lord Torrington, so the public understood, was the most dogged and determined opponent of the enfranchis.e.m.e.nt of women. He absolutely refused to receive deputations of ladies and had more than once said publicly that he was in entire agreement with a statement attributed to the German Emperor, by which the energies of women were confined to babies, baking and bazaars for church purposes. Miss Lentaigne scorched this sentiment with invective, and used language about Lord Torrington which was terrific. Her abandonment of the cause of Christian Science appeared to be as complete as the most enthusiastic general pract.i.tioner could desire. Frank was exceedingly uncomfortable.

Priscilla was demure and silent.

When Miss Lentaigne, followed by Priscilla, left the room, Sir Lucius became confidential and friendly. He pushed the decanter of port towards Frank.

"Fill up your gla.s.s, my boy," he said. "After your long day on the sea??

By the way I hope your aunt?I keep forgetting that she's not your aunt?I hope she didn't say anything at dinner to hurt your feelings.

You mustn't mind, you know. We're all rather hot about politics in this country. Have to be with the way these infernal Leagues and things are going on. You don't understand, of course, Frank. Nor does your father.

If he did he wouldn't vote with that gang. Your aunt?I mean to say my sister is?well, you saw for yourself. She usedn't to be, you know. It's only quite lately that she's taken the subject up. And there's something in it. I can't deny that there's something in it. She's a clever woman, There's always something in what she says. Though she pushes things too far sometimes. So does Torrington, it appears. Only he pushes them the other way. I think he goes too far, quite too far. Of course, my sister does too, in the opposite direction."

Sir Lucius sighed.

"It's all right, Uncle Lucius," said Frank. "I don't mind a bit. I'm not well enough up in these things to answer Miss Lentaigne. If father was here??"

"What's that? Is your father coming here?"

"Oh, no," said Frank. "He's in Schlangenbad."

"Of course, of course. By the way, your father's pretty intimate with Torrington, isn't he? The Secretary of State for War."

"My father's under-secretary of the War Office," said Frank.

"Now, what sort of a man is Torrington? He's a distant cousin of mine.