Number-One-Boy brought in the coffee tray and Mother poured out the first cup ⦠only to discover that the coffee-pot contained something that looked like slightly dirty water. Mother, considerably taken aback, directed one anguished glance at the Number-One-Boy, but received no help there. His assistant, Number-Two, merely looked interested. Mother lifted an eloquent eyebrow and flicked a dismissive finger, and the inscrutable one, translating this correctly, whisked the tray, himself and Number-Two out of the room with considerable speed.
If anyone noticed this brief episode, they didnât show it. And since the last of the guests did not leave until well after midnight (always the sign of a successful party), the subject of the coffee that wasnât did not come up until the following morning, when Mother asked the Number-One-Boy for an explanation. The Number-One-Boy offered the most profuse apologies. It was all most regrettable, and there were not enough words in the language to express the shame and sorrow that he and the cook, and in fact the entire staff, had felt at bringing such shame upon the Tai-tai; 2 and in front of such important guests. He and the staff were entirely responsible, and no shadow of blame rested on the Tai-tai. âI know that,â agreed Mother impatiently, âbut how did it happen?â Well, it was this way, explained the Number-One-Boy â¦
Only when the time came for sending in the coffee tray was it discovered that there wasnât any coffee. The only coffee in the place was a cupful or so left over from breakfast, so it was decided to use that, by the simple method of filling up the unemptied coffee pot with boiling water, and hoping that it would pass muster. Sadly, it had not â¦
Mother said that she understood their dilemma, but in that case it would have been better to skip the coffee. Such a thing must never happen again. The Number-One-Boy repeated his apologies, and that, one would have thought, was that. But no sooner was breakfast eaten and cleared away the next morning than the entire staff, overcoated and carrying its collective luggage, lined up in the courtyard and, having once again expressed its collective sorrow, announced that it was leaving.
Tacklow, hastily summoned to deal with the crisis, inquired what the trouble was, and Number-One, speaking for all of them, explained that since they had caused the Tai-tai to lose so much face on the previous night in the presence of her foreign guests, their own loss of face was so great that they could no longer work for her, and since they were all to some degree related, they all bore a share of the disgrace. When Mother tried to talk them out of it, saying that the episode of the coffee, though unfortunate, was not all that bad and she didnât mind losing face, the Number-One-Boy was plainly horrified, and replied tardy that she should mind! Nothing persuaded them, and the entire lot swept out, no doubt feeling that they were well out of working for someone so deficient in proper feeling.
The next Loss-of-Face-Disaster arose from an even slighter cause. We were expecting a visitor who would, on his arrival in a few daysâ time, be occupying the guest room in the second courtyard, and orders had been given for everything to be ready for him, the bedding aired and the room swept and garnished. This had been done, and a day or two before his arrival Tacklow, thinking that his friend would probably like a bit of light reading matter, collected a few books and a magazine or two and took them round to put on the guest-room writing desk. Unfortunately, he had chosen the wrong time of day for his mission; it was the hour of the siesta, when all who are at liberty to do so treat themselves to a nap. And there, treating himself to one â comfortably disposed and snoring gently on the guest-room bed â was the new (or newish) Number-One-Boy.
Tacklow always swore that he had recognized
If anyone noticed this brief episode, they didnât show it. And since the last of the guests did not leave until well after midnight (always the sign of a successful party), the subject of the coffee that wasnât did not come up until the following morning, when Mother asked the Number-One-Boy for an explanation. The Number-One-Boy offered the most profuse apologies. It was all most regrettable, and there were not enough words in the language to express the shame and sorrow that he and the cook, and in fact the entire staff, had felt at bringing such shame upon the Tai-tai; 2 and in front of such important guests. He and the staff were entirely responsible, and no shadow of blame rested on the Tai-tai. âI know that,â agreed Mother impatiently, âbut how did it happen?â Well, it was this way, explained the Number-One-Boy â¦
Only when the time came for sending in the coffee tray was it discovered that there wasnât any coffee. The only coffee in the place was a cupful or so left over from breakfast, so it was decided to use that, by the simple method of filling up the unemptied coffee pot with boiling water, and hoping that it would pass muster. Sadly, it had not â¦
Mother said that she understood their dilemma, but in that case it would have been better to skip the coffee. Such a thing must never happen again. The Number-One-Boy repeated his apologies, and that, one would have thought, was that. But no sooner was breakfast eaten and cleared away the next morning than the entire staff, overcoated and carrying its collective luggage, lined up in the courtyard and, having once again expressed its collective sorrow, announced that it was leaving.
Tacklow, hastily summoned to deal with the crisis, inquired what the trouble was, and Number-One, speaking for all of them, explained that since they had caused the Tai-tai to lose so much face on the previous night in the presence of her foreign guests, their own loss of face was so great that they could no longer work for her, and since they were all to some degree related, they all bore a share of the disgrace. When Mother tried to talk them out of it, saying that the episode of the coffee, though unfortunate, was not all that bad and she didnât mind losing face, the Number-One-Boy was plainly horrified, and replied tardy that she should mind! Nothing persuaded them, and the entire lot swept out, no doubt feeling that they were well out of working for someone so deficient in proper feeling.
The next Loss-of-Face-Disaster arose from an even slighter cause. We were expecting a visitor who would, on his arrival in a few daysâ time, be occupying the guest room in the second courtyard, and orders had been given for everything to be ready for him, the bedding aired and the room swept and garnished. This had been done, and a day or two before his arrival Tacklow, thinking that his friend would probably like a bit of light reading matter, collected a few books and a magazine or two and took them round to put on the guest-room writing desk. Unfortunately, he had chosen the wrong time of day for his mission; it was the hour of the siesta, when all who are at liberty to do so treat themselves to a nap. And there, treating himself to one â comfortably disposed and snoring gently on the guest-room bed â was the new (or newish) Number-One-Boy.
Tacklow always swore that he had recognized
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