‘So should we all. Do you think that perhaps my mother has now been subjected to the maddening prattle of your first cousin for long enough? Shall we relieve her?’
‘Just a minute. I knew there was something else I wanted to ask you. What is all this nonsense about a quintet society?’
‘Ah! Biggy has written to you about that, too, has he? Mind you, I think it’s quite a good idea in some ways, only I’m afraid it’s bound to be a failure if Biggy has anything to do with it. Still, I suppose one will have to join?’
‘I suppose so. One must support the poor old boy, though, frankly, it seems rather a waste of his time and our money. It’s so like Biggy, isn’t it? He always starts these wildly unpractical schemes. As though there were not enough good concerts as it is, besides, I hate listening to music in drawing-rooms. One’s always catching people’s eyes.’
‘He tells me we shall be able to take off our boots.’
‘I always do in any case.’
‘All the same, I dare say there is something to be said for it, you know,’ muttered Squibby grudgingly as they went upstairs. Fond as they were of each other, these friends had a sort of underlying bitterness in their characters which made it impossible for them not to indulge sometimes in a little harmless venom; like certain brothers and sisters, they always pretended to be sceptical of any venture embarked upon by the others.
On the way home Miss Héloïse Potts took advantage of the darkness and the undoubted cold to snuggle very close to poor Squibby, who, overwhelmed by her proximity and by the kisses which soon fell upon his lips, responded in no uncertain manner and presently begged of her to marry him.
‘No thanks, darling,’ said Héloïse. ‘I’m not old enough to marry yet. But when I am grown up I’m going to be either a duchess like Mummy or a tart like Amabelle. Nothing in between for me. Only,’ she added jauntily, ‘there are rather few eligible dukes about so it almost looks as though –’
14
Darling Evelyn,
How sweet, but oh, how very naughty of you to send me such lovely links, at least I s’pose it was you who sent them, wasn’t it? Cartier very stupidly forgot to put in a card, but I don’t know anybody else who would be likely to do such a divine thing. I just can’t tell you how much I dote on them. I look at them all day and think what an angel you are to give me a present like that, although I do feel rather badly about not having sent you even a Christmas card! However, I haven’t forgotten the date of your birthday, Evelyn, dear. I have had a gorgeous Christmas. I do hope you have, too. Amabelle, who has taken a house down here, gave me an evening watch (platinum with diamonds round the edge) and Auntie Loudie St Neots a pair of gold hair-brushes, rather chi-chi, but very attractive all the same, and I had altogether £60 in tips. But far, far the best of all my presents do I like your exquisite links. See you very soon, I hope. I may be in London for a few days towards the end of the holidays, in which case we might lunch or something? Anyway, mind you come trailing over to Eton some time next term, won’t you?
Many more thanks for the lovely surprise.
With love from
Bobby.
Bobby folded up this letter, put it in an envelope, addressed it, and laid it in a pile of about six others, all couched in exactly identical terms.
‘Think of some more people for me to write to,’ he said to Paul, who was deeply engrossed in the journal.
‘What sort of people?’ asked Paul vaguely.
‘The sort that might be taken in by a letter like this and stump up with something fairly reasonable.’ He read Paul the letter.
‘That’s rather a good idea, isn’t it?’ said Paul. ‘I wish I was brazen enough to do that sort of thing.’
‘But I can’t think of anybody else. You see, it must be someone rich, who enjoys giving presents. I won’t risk taking all this trouble just to get a New Year’s card back.’
‘Nobody seems to enjoy giving me presents,’ said Paul gloomily; ‘and if they do their mothers go and burn the thing in the stoke-hole. It is hard – The Sexual Life of Savages in Northern Melanesia is a book I had always wanted most particularly too.’
‘You can have Tally Ho! Songs of Horse and Hound, old boy. Here it is if you’d like it. I’m still wondering how they could have got mixed up. Do you think darling Héloïse might have had something to do with it?’
‘I expect that’s exactly what did happen. Thank heaven the little chatterbox isn’t here any more. She gets on my nerves with her sudden shrieks and all that egi-egi.’
It was New Year’s Day, and the entire house party had gone away that morning except for Lord Lewes, who remained alone and palely loitering, with the intention of very shortly laying his coronet, estates and person at the feet of his cousin, Philadelphia.
‘She may be a little chatterbox,’ said Bobby sourly, ‘but nobody can deny that she is divinely attractive.’
‘Indeed, I can.’
‘And, as a matter of fact, I may quite likely marry her in years’ and years’ time,’ went on Bobby, taking no notice of Paul. ‘We are engaged now, if you want to know, secretly, of course.’
‘My dear, she’ll be married and have children before you’re out of the cradle.’
‘Oh, I don’t expect to be her first husband, naturally. And you
