“Good God!” murmured Paul.
“I won the long jump at the last sports,” said Briggs, “but everyone said that it was because I had spiked shoes. Do you wear spiked shoes, sir?”
“Invariably,” said Paul.
“Everyone said it was taking an unfair advantage. You see, we never know beforehand when there’s going to be sports, so we don’t have time to get ready.”
“My mamma’s coming down to see me tomorrow,” said Beste-Chetwynde; “just my luck! Now I shall have to stay here all the afternoon.”
After luncheon Paul went to the morning-room, where he found the Doctor pacing up and down in evident high excitement.
“Ah, come in, Pennyfeather! I am just making the arrangements for tomorrow’s fête. Florence, will you get on to the Clutterbucks on the telephone and ask them to come over, and the Hope-Brownes. I think the Warringtons are too far away, but you might ask them, and of course the Vicar and old Major Sidebotham. The more guests the better, Florence!
“And, Diana, you must arrange the tea. Sandwiches, foie gras sandwiches—last time, you remember, the liver sausage you bought made Lady Bunyan ill—and cakes, plenty of cakes, with coloured sugar! You had better take the car into Llandudno and get them there.
“Philbrick, there must be champagne-cup, and will you help the men putting up the marquee? And flags, Diana! There should be flags left over from last time.”
“I made them into dusters,” said Dingy.
“Well, we must buy more. No expense must be spared. Pennyfeather, I want you to get the results of the first heats out by four o’clock. Then you can telephone them to the printers, and we shall have the programmes by tomorrow. Tell them that fifty will be enough; they must be decorated with the school colours and crest in gold. And there must be flowers, Diana, banks of flowers,” said the Doctor, with an expansive gesture. “The prizes shall stand among banks of flowers. Do you think there ought to be a bouquet for Lady Circumference?”
“No,” said Dingy.
“Nonsense!” said the Doctor. “Of course there must be a bouquet. It is rarely that the scholarly calm of Llanabba gives place to festival, but when it does taste and dignity shall go unhampered. It shall be an enormous bouquet, redolent of hospitality. You are to procure the most expensive bouquet that Wales can offer; do you understand? Flowers, youth, wisdom, the glitter of jewels, music,” said the Doctor, his imagination soaring to dizzy heights under the stimulus of the words, “music! There must be a band.”
“I never heard of such a thing,” said Dingy. “A band, indeed! You’ll be having fireworks next.”
“And fireworks,” said the Doctor, “and do you think it would be a good thing to buy Mr. Prendergast a new tie? I noticed how shabby he looked this morning.”
“No,” said Dingy with finality, “that is going too far. Flowers and fireworks are one thing, but I insist on drawing a line somewhere. It would be sinful to buy Mr. Prendergast a tie.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said the Doctor. “But there shall be music. I understand that the Llanabba Silver Band was third at the North Wales Eisteddfod last month. Will you get on to them, Florence? I think Mr. Davies at the station is the bandmaster. Can the Clutterbucks come?”
“Yes,” said Flossie, “six of them.”
“Admirable! And then there is the Press. We must ring up the Flint and Denbigh Herald and get them to send a photographer. That means whisky. Will you see to that, Philbrick? I remember at one of our sports I omitted to offer whisky to the Press, and the result was a most unfortunate photograph. Boys do get into such indelicate positions during the obstacle race, don’t they?
“Then there are the prizes. I think you had better take Grimes into Llandudno with you to help with the prizes. I don’t think there is any need for undue extravagance with the prizes. It gives boys a wrong idea of sport. I wonder whether Lady Circumference would think it odd if we asked her to present parsley crowns. Perhaps she would. Utility, economy and apparent durability are the qualities to be sought for, I think.
“And, Pennyfeather, I hope you will see that they are distributed fairly evenly about the school. It doesn’t do to let any boy win more than two events, I leave you to arrange that. I think it would be only right if little Lord Tangent won something, and Beste-Chetwynde—yes, his mother is coming down, too.
“I am afraid all this has been thrown upon your shoulders rather suddenly. I only learned this morning that Lady Circumference proposed to visit us, and as Mrs. Beste-Chetwynde was coming too, it seemed too good an opportunity to be missed. It is not often that the visits of two such important parents coincide. She is the Honourable Mrs. Beste-Chetwynde, you know—sister-in-law of Lord Pastmaster—a very wealthy woman, South American. They always say that she poisoned her husband, but of course little Beste-Chetwynde doesn’t know that. It never came into court, but there was a great deal of talk about it at the time. Perhaps you remember
