Mrs Lace had some difficulty in luring Mr Leader to the Jolly Roger. He felt instinctively that these new people who had come to upset the whole summer would be unlikely to accept him at his own valuation and he very much objected to the company of anybody who might prove to be his intellectual superior. In the end, Mrs Lace managed to persuade him that he had better come with her by hinting that he might be commissioned to design dresses for the pageant, which surely would not go against his conscience so long as he was well paid. He saw the force of this argument, and besides, it was not really in his nature to resist free food.
When they arrived at the Jolly Roger they found the party already sitting round a tea-table in the garden. It consisted of Marjorie, Poppy, Eugenia, Jasper and Mr Wilkins. Noel was not there, having been obliged to go to London for the day. Mrs Lace was annoyed by his absence but concealing the fact she sat down beside Jasper. There was no chair for poor Mr Leader, who was obliged to fetch one for himself out of the parlour. Poppy and Lady Marjorie then made him sit between them, and asked him, with every demonstration of friendliness, why he and his friends had not undertaken an episode in the pageant.
‘Our political principles forbid,’ said Mr Leader. ‘Thank you, I like it very weak, with no milk or sugar, also we are busy men.’
‘So busy,’ said Eugenia, coming straight to the charge, ‘that you still haven’t been to see the inside of our Social Unionist head-quarters.’
‘Not yet,’ said Mr Leader.
‘Did you know that they have been burnt down?’ she inquired, staring at him with eyes like enormous blue headlamps.
‘Have they really? I say, bad luck.’
‘Thank you, we don’t want your sympathy, we want to know what you were doing the night before last?’
Mrs Lace looked anxiously at Mr Leader.
‘Really, I have no idea at all. What were you doing yourself?’
‘Don’t be impertinent,’ said Eugenia, stiffly. ‘It is curious, is it not, that you, a well-known Pacifist, should have been observed retreating guiltily from the scene of incendiarism shortly after the fire began. How do you explain this coincidence?’
Mr Leader silently waited for Anne-Marie to provide his alibi. Anne-Marie did no such thing. She was far from anxious that Noel on the one hand, or Major Lace on the other, should know of her midnight rendezvous. If it were to be disclosed at this table, Noel would certainly hear it from Jasper, and Major Lace from Mr Wilkins. She could not take the risk.
‘Answer,’ said Eugenia, sternly, ‘and answer truthfully. Lies shall not avail you here.’
Mrs Lace now turned to Jasper, and said, ‘How absurd. That child’s passion for play-acting is great fun of course, but doesn’t it make her behave in rather a babyish way sometimes?’
‘If Eugenia suspects a chap of burning down her head-quarters,’ said Jasper, ‘I think it is only fair to them both that he should be questioned and given a chance to clear himself. After all, he was behaving rather suspiciously that night. What have you to say, Leader?’
Mr Leader held his peace.
‘As I thought,’ remarked Eugenia, ‘Van der Lubbe, I always felt that here was no Dimitroff.’
At this insult Mr Leader got up and left the party.
Mrs Lace, if she felt inclined to follow her friend, who after all had stood by her with some courage, made no move to do so. She must, whatever the cost, keep on good terms with Eugenia until the Grand Social Unionist rally, pageant and garden party was over. Not for any loyalty was she going to sacrifice her chance of riding in that coach.
She now chattered gaily about many things, supplementing her remarks with a wealth of gestures, and presently asked Jasper why that naughty Noel had gone to London so suddenly.
‘That is a state secret,’ said Jasper.
She looked at him significantly, and then, lowering her voice, she said, ‘How goes it?’
‘Only too well,’ said Jasper.
‘He tells me nothing.’
‘He is afraid – of spoiling things for you.’
‘This silence is hard to bear.’
‘A woman’s lot is often hard. You must have courage.’
‘When will he have to leave?’
‘¿Quien sabe?’
Mrs Lace wondered whether Lady Marjorie and Mrs St Julien were in the secret, not that it would help her much if they were. She would never be able to worm anything out of them, even if pride permitted her to make the attempt.
‘I wonder,’ she said to Jasper, still in an undertone, ‘if you would write down his motto for me. I thought of having some little memento made for him, a little keepsake, and I should like to have his motto engraved on it.’
‘Certainly,’ said Jasper, who had been finding out one or two things from Mr Wilkins of late. He took the paper and pencil that she offered and wrote. ‘Bella, Horrida Bella.’ Over these words he drew a crown of exaggerated dimensions. Mrs Lace folded the paper carefully and placed it in her bag. She thought it a wonderfully romantic coincidence that her own name should be incorporated in the royal motto of Noel’s ancestors.
‘By the way,’ said Poppy, breaking in on these confidences, ‘I have been meaning for ages to ask you whether you have made out that list of neighbours for Cousin Maud Chalford? I think she is depending on it, and the invitations must be sent during the next day or two, because the time really is getting rather short.’
Lady Marjorie asked Mr Wilkins if he wasn’t living for the pageant and Mr Wilkins said that he supposed he was.
‘I can’t wait,’ said Lady Marjorie.
‘But I’m afraid you’ll have to,’ said Mr Wilkins, who liked to stress the obvious.
‘The list is quite ready,’ said Mrs Lace. ‘I
