Presently Charles-Edouard came in.
‘I looked for you in the nursery,’ he said.
‘Aren’t you having tea with Madame Marel?’
‘Not today. I never do on Wednesday, it’s her day for receiving. Where do we dine? Oh yes, of course, I remember, Tante Régine. That’s sure to be great fun. So, what are the news? Don’t tell me, I can guess. You lunched, in an impenetrable silence, with la Dexter. Such a curious friendship, I find.’
‘And after luncheon we went sight-seeing.’
‘Indeed? Where?’
‘The Hôtel de Hauteserre.’
Charles-Edouard looked at her, startled, and then said, quite angrily for him, ‘Really, Grace, you are too extravagant. What could have induced you to pay 100 francs to see the house of your uncle, which you know perfectly well already? No – this is not sensible, and I’m very cross with you. Why, 100 francs was a dowry when my grandmother was young.’
‘You pay for the lecturer. He shows all sorts of unexpected things.’
‘I will take you over it one day. I know much more about it than any lecturer.’
‘You would never show me what he did, this afternoon.’
‘Ha!’ said Charles-Edouard. He went to the window and looked out of it.
‘This is very annoying,’ he said presently.
‘I thought so too. I’ve seen the whites of their eyes, Charles-Edouard.’
‘Imbecile of a lecturer. He should know better than to come bursting into bedrooms like that.’
‘Yes. Being French you’d think he would.’
‘Perhaps I’ll give up Juliette.’
‘You needn’t bother. I’m going back to England.’
‘Do stay,’ said Charles-Edouard.
‘For the week-end?’
‘No. For ever.’
‘It’s no good, Charles-Edouard. I’m too English; your behaviour makes me too miserable, and I can’t bear it any more.’
‘But my dear, that’s nothing to do with being English. All women are the same; indeed if you were Spanish I dare say you would have killed me by now, or Juliette, or both. No, we’ve been particularly unlucky. This unspeakable lecturer, paid 100 francs to open bedroom doors in the middle of the afternoon! What could have induced Tante Edmonde to let him, she is out of her mind. I know what it is of course, she hopes to get off taxes by allowing the public into her house, but what a shortsighted action! Half that crowd must have been Treasury spies, nosing about to see how many signed pieces she owns, and the rest of course were burglars making out lists of all the objects in the glass cases. I blame her terribly. Then I’m bound to say it was a little bit your own fault, wasting 100 francs and a whole afternoon in a house where you dine at least once a week. Bad luck, and bad management.’
‘In fact everybody’s fault but yours.’
‘No, no, I blame myself most, for being so careless.’
‘Oh dear! How cynical you are.’
‘Not at all. I see things in the light of reality.’
‘Yes. Well I also must try to be a realist. After this I could never again be happy with you because I should never again have an easy moment when you were out of my sight, never. You are wonderful at explaining things away until one happens to have seen with one’s own eyes, but from now on the explanations won’t be any good. So I shall go back to Papa.’
‘And when do you leave?’
‘Tomorrow. I shall take Sigi.’
‘Yes, you must. And Nanny, too, perhaps?’
‘And Nanny, too. And please excuse me to Tante Régine. I’ve got a headache, and there’s a great deal of packing to be done.’
‘Nanny, we’re going home to England tomorrow.’
‘What, all of us?’
‘You and me and Sigismond.’
‘Mm.’ The tone was one of disapproval. ‘Tomorrow, dear? And what about the packing?’
‘The train isn’t till 12.30 and there’s Marie to help you. You must manage somehow, darling, please.’
‘But how long are we going for?’
‘For good. Now don’t look sad, it will be London, not Bunbury. So think – Hyde Park every day, Daniel Neal, steam puddings, Irish stew –’
‘Irish stew indeed. My sister says you never see a nice neck, these days. And Sigi’s Papa?’
‘He’s not coming.’
‘Mm.’
‘Do be pleased, darling. I thought at least somebody would be.’
‘Well dear, I’ve always said little boys ought to have a mummy and a daddy.’
‘That can’t be helped. And think of the hundreds who don’t.’
‘I’m wondering how I’m ever to get all his toys packed up in the time. Funny thing, one never gets any notice of these journeys.’
‘Send Marie out to buy an extra hamper if there’s no room.’
Next day there had to be a special motor to take Sigi’s luggage; he had exactly twice as many items as his mother.
‘Anybody would suppose that he was a famous cocotte,’ said Charles-Edouard, who went to the station exactly as if he were seeing them off for a little change. Sigi skipped about on the platform, getting in everybody’s way and saying, ‘Can I ride on the engine, please, Papa?’
‘Certainly not. And I hope you’ll have learnt to read before I see you again.’
‘Will you give me a prize if I can?’
‘Perhaps. If you can read everything, and not only the little bit out of the Journal des Voyages you already know by heart.’
‘What sort of prize?’
‘A good sort.’
‘Can I ride on the chevaux de Marly for my prize?’
‘You can only ride on the chevaux de Marly when you know A la voix du vainqueur d’Austerlitz by heart.’
‘How can I learn it, in England?’
‘I can’t imagine. Anyhow you can learn to read. Shall I tell you what will become of you if you can’t read when you are grown up?’
‘All grown-up people can read,’ said the child, conclusively.
‘Good-bye, Grace,’ said Charles-Edouard. ‘Do come back soon.’
‘For a week-end?’
‘No. For good.’
He kissed her hand and left them. He was quite surprised at how much he minded their departure.
