‘’Oo very good girl, Lucia. ’Oo
molto punctuale
.’
(He was not sure about that last word, nor was Lucia, but she understood it.)
‘
Georgino! Che curiose scalpe!
’ said Lucia, leaning out of the window.
‘Don’t be so
cattiva
. They are
cattivo
enough,’ said Georgie. ‘But Drake did have shoes exactly like these.’
The mere mention of Drake naturally caused Lucia to talk about something else. She did not understand any allusion to Drake.
‘Now for a good practice,’ she said, as Georgie limped into the drawing-room. ‘Foljambe beamed at me. How happy it all is! I hope you said you were at home to nobody. Let us begin at once. Can you manage the
sostenuto
pedal in those odd shoes?’
Foljambe entered.
‘Mrs Quantock, sir,’ she said.
‘Daisy darling,’ said Lucia effusively. ‘Come to hear our little practice? We must play our best, Georgino.’
Daisy was still in queenly costume, except for the ruff. Lucia seemed as usual to be quite unconscious of it.
‘Lucia, before you begin –’ said Daisy.
‘So much better than interrupting,’ said Lucia. ‘Thank you, dear. Yes?’
‘About this fête. Oh, for gracious’ sake don’t go on seeming to know nothing about it. I tell you there is to be one. And it’s all nohow. Can’t you help us?’
Lucia sprang from the music-stool. She had been waiting for this moment, not impatiently, but ready for it if it came, as she knew it must, without any scheming on her part. She had been watching from Perdita’s garden the straggling procession smoking cigarettes, the listless halberdiers not walking in step, the courtiers yawning in Her Majesty’s face, the languor and the looseness arising from the lack of an inspiring mind. The scene on the
Golden Hind
, and that of Elizabeth’s speech to her troops were equally familiar to her, for though she could not observe them from under her garden-hat close at hand, her husband had been fond of astronomy and there were telescopes great and small, which brought these scenes quite close. Moreover, she had that speech which poor Daisy found so elusive by heart. So easy to learn, just the sort of cheap bombast that Elizabeth would indulge in: she had found it in a small history of England, and had committed it to memory, just in case …
‘But I’ll willingly help you, dear Daisy,’ she said. ‘I seem to remember you told me something about it. You as Queen Elizabeth, was it not, a roast sheep on the
Golden Hind
, a speech to the troops, Morris-dances, bear-baiting, no, not bear-baiting. Isn’t it all going beautifully?’
‘No! It isn’t,’ said Daisy in a lamentable voice. ‘I want you to help us, will you? It’s all like dough.’
Great was Lucia. There was no rubbing in: there was no hesitation, there was nothing but helpful sunny cordiality in response to this SOS.
‘How you all work me!’ she said, ‘but I’ll try to help you if I can. Georgie, we must put off our practice, and get to grips with all this, if the fête is to be a credit to Riseholme.
Addio, caro Mozartino
for the present. Now begin, Daisy, and tell me all the trouble.’
For the next week Mozartino and the
Symposium
and contract bridge were non-existent and rehearsals went on all day.Lucia demonstrated to Daisy how to make her first appearance, and, when the trumpeters blew a fanfare, she came out of the door of the Hurst, and without the slightest hurry majestically marched down the crazy pavement. She did not fumble at the gate as Daisy always did, but with a swift imperious nod to Robert Quantock, which made him pause in the middle of a sneeze, she caused him to fly forward, open it, and kneel as she passed through. She made a wonderful curtsey to her lieges and motioned them to close up in front of her. And all this was done in the clothes of to-day, without a ruff or a pearl to help her.
‘Something like that, do you think, dear Daisy, for the start of the procession?’ she said to her. ‘Will you try it like
molto punctuale
.’
(He was not sure about that last word, nor was Lucia, but she understood it.)
‘
Georgino! Che curiose scalpe!
’ said Lucia, leaning out of the window.
‘Don’t be so
cattiva
. They are
cattivo
enough,’ said Georgie. ‘But Drake did have shoes exactly like these.’
The mere mention of Drake naturally caused Lucia to talk about something else. She did not understand any allusion to Drake.
‘Now for a good practice,’ she said, as Georgie limped into the drawing-room. ‘Foljambe beamed at me. How happy it all is! I hope you said you were at home to nobody. Let us begin at once. Can you manage the
sostenuto
pedal in those odd shoes?’
Foljambe entered.
‘Mrs Quantock, sir,’ she said.
‘Daisy darling,’ said Lucia effusively. ‘Come to hear our little practice? We must play our best, Georgino.’
Daisy was still in queenly costume, except for the ruff. Lucia seemed as usual to be quite unconscious of it.
‘Lucia, before you begin –’ said Daisy.
‘So much better than interrupting,’ said Lucia. ‘Thank you, dear. Yes?’
‘About this fête. Oh, for gracious’ sake don’t go on seeming to know nothing about it. I tell you there is to be one. And it’s all nohow. Can’t you help us?’
Lucia sprang from the music-stool. She had been waiting for this moment, not impatiently, but ready for it if it came, as she knew it must, without any scheming on her part. She had been watching from Perdita’s garden the straggling procession smoking cigarettes, the listless halberdiers not walking in step, the courtiers yawning in Her Majesty’s face, the languor and the looseness arising from the lack of an inspiring mind. The scene on the
Golden Hind
, and that of Elizabeth’s speech to her troops were equally familiar to her, for though she could not observe them from under her garden-hat close at hand, her husband had been fond of astronomy and there were telescopes great and small, which brought these scenes quite close. Moreover, she had that speech which poor Daisy found so elusive by heart. So easy to learn, just the sort of cheap bombast that Elizabeth would indulge in: she had found it in a small history of England, and had committed it to memory, just in case …
‘But I’ll willingly help you, dear Daisy,’ she said. ‘I seem to remember you told me something about it. You as Queen Elizabeth, was it not, a roast sheep on the
Golden Hind
, a speech to the troops, Morris-dances, bear-baiting, no, not bear-baiting. Isn’t it all going beautifully?’
‘No! It isn’t,’ said Daisy in a lamentable voice. ‘I want you to help us, will you? It’s all like dough.’
Great was Lucia. There was no rubbing in: there was no hesitation, there was nothing but helpful sunny cordiality in response to this SOS.
‘How you all work me!’ she said, ‘but I’ll try to help you if I can. Georgie, we must put off our practice, and get to grips with all this, if the fête is to be a credit to Riseholme.
Addio, caro Mozartino
for the present. Now begin, Daisy, and tell me all the trouble.’
For the next week Mozartino and the
Symposium
and contract bridge were non-existent and rehearsals went on all day.Lucia demonstrated to Daisy how to make her first appearance, and, when the trumpeters blew a fanfare, she came out of the door of the Hurst, and without the slightest hurry majestically marched down the crazy pavement. She did not fumble at the gate as Daisy always did, but with a swift imperious nod to Robert Quantock, which made him pause in the middle of a sneeze, she caused him to fly forward, open it, and kneel as she passed through. She made a wonderful curtsey to her lieges and motioned them to close up in front of her. And all this was done in the clothes of to-day, without a ruff or a pearl to help her.
‘Something like that, do you think, dear Daisy, for the start of the procession?’ she said to her. ‘Will you try it like
Similar Books
