and?one moment, Hans?' Jose loved giving orders to the servants, and they loved obeying her. She always made them feel they were taking part in some drama. 'Tell mother and Miss Laura to come here at once.'
'Very good, Miss Jose.' She turned to Meg. 'I want to hear what the piano sounds like, just in case I'm asked to sing this afternoon. Let's try over 'This life is Weary.' '
Pom! Ta-ta-ta Tee-ta! The piano burst out so passionately that Jose's face changed. She clasped her hands. She looked mournfully and enigmatically at her mother and Laura as they came in.
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2350 / {CATHERINE MANSFIELD
This Life is Wee-ary, A Tear?a Sigh. A Love that Chan-ges,
This Life is Wee-ary, A Tear?a Sigh. A Love that Chan-ges, And then . . . Good-bye!
But at the word 'Good-bye,' and although the piano sounded more desperate than ever, her face broke into a brilliant, dreadfully unsympathetic smile. 'Aren't I in good voice, mummy?' she beamed.
This Life is Wee-ary, Hope comes to Die. A Dream?a Wa-kening.
But now Sadie interrupted them. 'What is it, Sadie?' 'If you please, m'm, cook says have you got the flags4 for the sandwiches?' 'The flags for the sandwiches, Sadie?' echoed Mrs Sheridan dreamily. And
the children knew by her face that she hadn't got them. 'Let me see.' And she
said to Sadie firmly, 'Tell cook I'll let her have them in ten minutes.' Sadie went. 'Now, Laura,' said her mother quickly. 'Come with me into the smoking-
room. I've got the names5 somewhere on the back of an envelope. You'll have to write them out for me. Meg, go upstairs this minute and take that wet thing off your head. Jose, run and finish dressing this instant. Do you hear me, children, or shall I have to tell your father when he comes home to-night? And?and, Jose, pacify cook if you do go into the kitchen, will you? I'm terrified of her this morning.'
The envelope was found at last behind the dining-room clock, though how it had got there Mrs Sheridan could not imagine. 'One of you children must have stolen it out of my bag, because I remember
vividly?cream cheese and lemon-curd. Have you done that?' 'Yes.' 'Egg and? Mrs Sheridan held the envelope away from her. 'It looks like
mice. It can't be mice, can it?' 'Olive, pet,' said Laura, looking over her shoulder. 'Yes, of course, olive. What a horrible combination it sounds. Egg and olive.' They were finished at last, and Laura took them off to the kitchen. She
found Jose there pacifying the cook, who did not look at all terrifying. 'I have never seen such exquisite sandwiches,' said Jose's rapturous voice.
'How many kinds did you say there were, cook? Fifteen?' 'Fifteen, Miss Jose.' 'Well, cook, I congratulate you.' Cook swept up crusts with the long sandwich knife and smiled broadly. 'Godber's has come,' announced Sadie, issuing out of the pantry. She had
seen the man pass the window. That meant the cream puffs had come. Godber's were famous for their cream puffs. Nobody ever thought of making them at home.
4. Little paper flags stuck in a plate of small tri-of gentility. angular sandwiches indicating what is inside the 5. I.e., the names of the sandwich fillings to be sandwiches on each plate?an English custom written on each flag. adopted by the New Zealand middle class as a sign
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THE GARDEN PARTY / 2351
'Bring them in and put them on the table, my girl,' ordered cook.
Sadie brought them in and went back to the door. Of course Laura and Jose were far too grown-up to really care about such things. All the same, they couldn't help agreeing that the puffs looked very attractive. Very. Cook began arranging them, shaking off the extra icing sugar.
'Don't they carry one back to all one's parties?' said Laura. 'I suppose they do,' said practical Jose, who never liked to be carried back. 'They look beautifully light and feathery, I must say.' 'Have one each, my dears,' said cook in her comfortable voice. 'Yer ma won't know.'
Oh, impossible. Fancy cream puffs so soon after breakfast. The very idea made one shudder. All the same, two minutes later Jose and Laura were licking their fingers with that absorbed inward look that only comes from whipped cream.
'Let's go into the garden, out by the back way,' suggested Laura. '1 want to see how the men are getting on with the marquee. They're such awfully nice men.'
But the back door was blocked by cook, Sadie, Godber's man and Hans.
Something had happened.
'Tuk-tuk-tuk,' clucked cook like an agitated hen. Sadie had her hand clapped to her cheek as though she had toothache. Hans's face was screwed up in the effort to understand. Only Godber's man seemed to be enjoying himself; it was his story.
'What's the matter? What's happened?'
'There's been a horrible accident,' said cook. 'A man killed.'
'A man killed! Where? How? When?'
But Godber's man wasn't going to have his story snatched from under his very nose.
'Know those little cottages just below here, miss?' Know them? Of course, she knew them. 'Well, there's a young chap living there, name of Scott, a carter. His horse shied at a traction-engine, corner of Hawke Street this morning, and he was thrown out on the back of his head. Killed.'
