Halliday, and ended the day by inviting his uncle (by this time almost mellow) to recount some of his Indian experiences. By the time Lola and Geoffrey returned from Clayton-on-Sea the air was thick with shikaris, chuckkas, Pathans, Sikhs, sahibs, bazaars, mahouts, and jinrickshas, and the General midway through an anecdote about a fellah who was a Gunner, a minor Rajah, and a Kabul pony.
But from the moment of Miss de Silva's appearance the General's amiability waned. It was plain that Geoffrey had made an attempt to impress upon Lola the necessity of placating his father, for she broke into the anecdote just as the sail was shampooing the Kabul pony's legs before the first chukka, and announced her firm intention of talking to Geoffrey's papa. The General was a ruthless conversationalist, but he was no match for Miss de Silva, whose twenty-three years in the world had provided her with a larger stock of egotistic reminiscences than he had acquired in all his sixty summers. Russian grand dukes, Polish counts, Spanish anarchists, and Mexican bandits took the place of the Pathans, and the Sikhs, and the Gurkhas, and the scene shifted with bewildering rapidity from Rio de Janeiro to New York, Paris, London, and Monte Carlo, the saga being strung together by the principal motif of Miss de Silva's amazing successes in these different cities.
By supper-time the General was in a state of bottled emotion that seemed to put him in danger of explosion at any moment. The sight of his son watching Miss de Silva with an expression of rapt, uncritical adniration was the last straw. The sanctity of the day prevented an immediate outburst, but, as the house party, in various stages of nervous exhaustion, went limply in to supper, he informed Geoffrey that he had just one or two things to say to him, and would see him in his study at half past nine next morning without fail.
Therefore Miss Fawcett arose betimes.
On her way to the bath she passed Fay's room, and the sound of a military voice upraised in furious monologue induced her, as soon as she had dressed, to visit her sister before she went down to breakfast. She found Fay weeping hysterically over the brushes on her dressing table and put her back to bed and dosed her with aspirin. As far as she could gather from a choked and incoherent explanation, Fay had tried to persuade the General not to take his son's engagement too seriously. Whereupon it seemed (but the story was lost in a maze of sobs, I-saids and he-saids) that Sir Arthur had not only called his wife a soft-headed, meddlesome fool, but had laid the blame of every mishap occurring within the last five years at her door, and declared his intention of cutting Geoffrey off with a shilling immediately after breakfast.
Miss Fawcett recommended her sister to pull herself together, promised to order a tray to be sent up to her mom, and went off downstairs to have it out with the General.
She found him eating a solitary breakfast, and wasted no time in skirmishing preliminaries. "Look here, Arthur," she said forcibly, "you've been upsetting Fay. That's a cad's trick, and you know it."
The General bent upon her the famous glare that had caused so many adjutants to shiver in their shoes, and said menacingly: 'Will-you-have-the-goodness-to-mind-your-own-business?"
"No," said Dinah, "I will not. You've been throwing your weight about ever since I entered this house, and now it's my turn. If you want to bully anybody, try bullying me! It wasn't Fay's fault that Geoffrey got himself engaged to Lola, and it isn't fair to take it out of her just because you're feeling sore. I quite see that it's very annoying for you to have to put up with Lola, but good Lord, Arthur, you don't suppose it'll last, do you?"
"That's enough!" thundered the General. "By God, haven't I enough whining and puling to put up with from your damned fool of a sister without having your impertinence added to it?"
"No, you haven't," replied Miss Fawcett. She sat
But from the moment of Miss de Silva's appearance the General's amiability waned. It was plain that Geoffrey had made an attempt to impress upon Lola the necessity of placating his father, for she broke into the anecdote just as the sail was shampooing the Kabul pony's legs before the first chukka, and announced her firm intention of talking to Geoffrey's papa. The General was a ruthless conversationalist, but he was no match for Miss de Silva, whose twenty-three years in the world had provided her with a larger stock of egotistic reminiscences than he had acquired in all his sixty summers. Russian grand dukes, Polish counts, Spanish anarchists, and Mexican bandits took the place of the Pathans, and the Sikhs, and the Gurkhas, and the scene shifted with bewildering rapidity from Rio de Janeiro to New York, Paris, London, and Monte Carlo, the saga being strung together by the principal motif of Miss de Silva's amazing successes in these different cities.
By supper-time the General was in a state of bottled emotion that seemed to put him in danger of explosion at any moment. The sight of his son watching Miss de Silva with an expression of rapt, uncritical adniration was the last straw. The sanctity of the day prevented an immediate outburst, but, as the house party, in various stages of nervous exhaustion, went limply in to supper, he informed Geoffrey that he had just one or two things to say to him, and would see him in his study at half past nine next morning without fail.
Therefore Miss Fawcett arose betimes.
On her way to the bath she passed Fay's room, and the sound of a military voice upraised in furious monologue induced her, as soon as she had dressed, to visit her sister before she went down to breakfast. She found Fay weeping hysterically over the brushes on her dressing table and put her back to bed and dosed her with aspirin. As far as she could gather from a choked and incoherent explanation, Fay had tried to persuade the General not to take his son's engagement too seriously. Whereupon it seemed (but the story was lost in a maze of sobs, I-saids and he-saids) that Sir Arthur had not only called his wife a soft-headed, meddlesome fool, but had laid the blame of every mishap occurring within the last five years at her door, and declared his intention of cutting Geoffrey off with a shilling immediately after breakfast.
Miss Fawcett recommended her sister to pull herself together, promised to order a tray to be sent up to her mom, and went off downstairs to have it out with the General.
She found him eating a solitary breakfast, and wasted no time in skirmishing preliminaries. "Look here, Arthur," she said forcibly, "you've been upsetting Fay. That's a cad's trick, and you know it."
The General bent upon her the famous glare that had caused so many adjutants to shiver in their shoes, and said menacingly: 'Will-you-have-the-goodness-to-mind-your-own-business?"
"No," said Dinah, "I will not. You've been throwing your weight about ever since I entered this house, and now it's my turn. If you want to bully anybody, try bullying me! It wasn't Fay's fault that Geoffrey got himself engaged to Lola, and it isn't fair to take it out of her just because you're feeling sore. I quite see that it's very annoying for you to have to put up with Lola, but good Lord, Arthur, you don't suppose it'll last, do you?"
"That's enough!" thundered the General. "By God, haven't I enough whining and puling to put up with from your damned fool of a sister without having your impertinence added to it?"
"No, you haven't," replied Miss Fawcett. She sat
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