Happy go lucky Part 45

"What a jolly old-fas.h.i.+oned house this is," said Connie from the window-seat. "How nice and shady this big square must be in summer."

"It is a fairly shady locality all the year round, I fancy," observed Sylvia sweetly.

Kind-hearted Mr. Mainwaring coughed, and looked unhappily towards his son. But d.i.c.ky did not appear to have heard. He had just discovered his carnations.

Lady Adela took up the tale.

"There was a small but ferocious-looking creature with red whiskers,"

she announced, "hanging over the banisters on the top floor. Who would he be, now?"

"Don't ask me, Mum," said d.i.c.ky. "I've never been in the house before, remember, except downstairs. Probably a paper-hanger, or--"

He was interrupted by the entrance of a stately procession headed by Mrs. Welwyn, the rest following in single file.

Tilly effected the necessary introductions prettily and with perfect composure; and presently the company a.s.sorted itself into what we will call Tableau Number One. Mr. Welwyn led Lady Adela back to the seat which she had vacated.

"Most of the furniture in this mansion of ours is Early Victorian," he announced with a ready laugh; "but I think you will find this sofa comfortably Edwardian, Lady Adela."

Lady Adela, favourably impressed with her host's appearance and manner, smiled graciously and once more cautiously lowered herself onto the sofa. Here, in obedience to an almost imperceptible sign from her husband, the quaking Mrs. Welwyn joined her, and announced, in a voice which she entirely failed to recognise as her own, that it was very sweet of them all to come so far.

Amelia ran impulsively to d.i.c.ky and kissed him. Mrs. Carmyle, Sylvia, and Tilly fell into a chattering group round the tea-table. Mr. Welwyn and Mr. Mainwaring shook hands warmly and exchanged greetings. The tea-party was launched.

"How many years is it, Welwyn?" asked Mr. Mainwaring.

"Let us not rake up the past, my dear Mainwaring," said Mr. Welwyn.

"More years than we care to count--eh? We'll leave it at that. But I am delighted to meet you again. I wonder how the old College prospers.

Foster was your tutor, was n't he?"

"Yes," replied Mr. Mainwaring, pleasantly flattered to find that a man who had been two years senior to him should remember so much about him.

"Mine, too," mentioned Mr. Welwyn, as if determined to put his guest at his ease.

"He's a bishop now, I hear," said Mr. Mainwaring.

"_Eheu, fugaces_!" sighed Mr. Welwyn. "Come and sit by the fire."

"I think we had better have tea, Tilly," said Mrs. Welwyn, as per programme.

The Welwyn family, recognising a cue, began to bestir themselves for Tableau Number Two.

"I seem to hear it coming up, Mother," replied Tilly.

She was right. Portentous rattlings and puffings were now audible without. Next moment the doors were b.u.mped open and Mr. Stillbottle appeared, carrying the tea-pot on a tray.

Apparently something was on his mind. His appearance was that of a righteous man deeply wronged. His was the demeanour of a British artisan compelled by forces which he cannot control to perform a task not included in his contract.

A moment later the situation explained itself. Behind Mr. Stillbottle, clinging affectionately to his flowing coat-tails, marched The Caution and The Cure. They were dressed in white, and looked exactly alike except that The Caution wore abbreviated white knickerbockers and The Cure a little white skirt. Their socks were white, their sashes and chubby legs were a radiant pink, and the angelic countenance of each was wreathed in smiles.

The procession drew up at the tea-table, where its leader proceeded to deposit the tea-pot. For a moment there was a pause in the conversation, while the hearts of the Welwyns stood still. The Twins, uncontrolled, sometimes erred on the side of originality.

"He's the Queen," explained The Cure, indicating the flinching figure of Mr. Stillbottle.

"Yesh; and we're holdin' up of his train," added The Caution.

Next moment Connie Carmyle had captured them both.

"You darlings!" she cried, and carried them off to the window-seat. The situation was saved.

"Little pets!" observed Lady Adela, smiling.

Even Sylvia forgot to pose for a moment. Tea was served amid a hum of cheerful conversation. The children had evoked the maternal instinct, and all was well.

Only Mr. Stillbottle remained cold.

"You oughter 'ave kep' them locked up somewhere," he announced severely to Tilly; and left the room.

"I don't see your son here, Mrs. Welwyn," said Lady Adela. "We had the pleasure of his company for a few minutes on Sat.u.r.day."

"He will be here any minute, your--Lady Adela," replied Mrs. Welwyn with a jerk. "He is usually kept in the City till close on five, poor boy."

"That aged retainer of yours seems to be a bit of an autocrat, Tilly,"

said d.i.c.ky, taking Mrs. Carmyle's chair at the tea-table.

"Yes," agreed Tilly, feeling rather miserable at having to talk to d.i.c.ky in this strain; "but you know what old servants are. In their eyes we never grow up."

"Has he been with you for long, then?" enquired Sylvia, with a deep appearance of interest.

"How long has Russell been with us, Mother?" said Tilly, noting that Mrs. Welwyn's conversation with Lady Adela was beginning to flag.

"I can't remember, dear. It seems a long time, anyhow," replied Mrs.

Welwyn with sincerity. "Ah, here is Percy. Come in, my boy. Just in time to hand round the cakes!"

"You can trust little Perce," observed that engaging youth, entirely at his ease, "to be on the spot at the right moment. How de do, Lady Adela? I hope this finds you as it leaves me."

He shook the very limp hand of Lady Adela, and having bestowed an ingratiating smile upon Sylvia, proceeded amid a slowly intensifying silence to offer a humorous greeting to Mr. Mainwaring. Finally he turned to d.i.c.ky, and slapped him boisterously upon the shoulder.

"Well, my brave Ricardo," he enquired, "how goes it?"

"Percy, dear old thing," responded d.i.c.ky promptly, with his most vacant laugh, "how splendid to see you again! Come and tell me all about your club run on Sunday."

He drew the flamboyant cyclist to a place of safety, and Tilly breathed again.

"There is sugar and cream in this cup, Lady Adela," said Amelia, with a neat bob-curtsey.

"Thank you, little girl," said Lady Adela, taking the cup and smiling indulgently. ("Like a d.u.c.h.ess out slumming," Amelia told Tilly afterwards.) "What pretty manners!" she continued, turning to Mrs.

Welwyn. "Where do you send her to school? I used to find it so difficult--"

"She has left school," replied Mrs. Welwyn. "I suppose we ought to send her somewhere to get finished later on, but there--we can't do without her, and that's the truth. Can we, dear?"