Ada said should they put some holly in Captain and Mrs. Littlejohn’s bedroom.
Mrs. Florin said, whoever heard of holly in a bedroom, and she wasn’t sure but that it was unlucky to take it upstairs.
Ada said, “Well, perhaps just a bit of mistletoe over the bed.”
Mrs. Florin said Ada was too young to think about things like that, and she ought to be ashamed of herself.
Florin said would Ada stop arguing and answering back and come into the hall to put up the banner. One string went on the nose of the rhinoceros, he explained, the other round the giraffe.
Presently Colonel Blount came down.
“Should I light the fires in the big drawing-room?” asked Mrs. Florin.
“Fires in the big drawing-room? No, why should you want to do that, Mrs. Florin?”
“Because of Captain and Mrs. Littlejohn—you haven’t forgotten, have you, sir, that they’re coming to stay this afternoon?”
“Captain and Mrs. Fiddlesticks. Never heard of them. Who asked them to stay I should like to know? I didn’t. Don’t know who they are. Don’t want them. … Besides, now I come to think of it, Miss Nina and her husband said they were coming down. I can’t have the whole house turned into an hotel. If these people come, Florin, whoever they are, you tell them to go away. You understand? I won’t have them, and I think it’s very presumptuous of whoever asked them. It is not their place to invite guests here without consulting me.”
“Should I be lighting the fires in the big drawing-room for Miss Nina and her young gentleman, sir?”
“Yes, yes, certainly … and a fire in their bedroom, of course. And, Florin, I want you to come down to the cellar with me to look out some port … I’ve got the keys here. … I have a feeling I’m going to like Miss Nina’s husband,” he confided on their way to the cellar. “I hear very good reports of him—a decent, steady young fellow, and not at all badly off. Miss Nina said in her letter that he used to come over here as a little boy. D’you remember him, Florin? Blest if I do. … What’s the name again?”
“Littlejohn, sir.”
“Yes. Littlejohn, to be sure. I had the name on the tip of my tongue only a minute ago. Littlejohn. I must remember that.”
“His father used to live over at Oakshott, sir. A very wealthy gentleman. Shipowners, I think they were. Young Mr. Littlejohn used to go riding with Miss Nina, sir. Regular little monkey he was, sir, redheaded … a terrible one for cats.”
“Well, well, I dare say he’s grown out of that. Mind the step, Florin, it’s all broken away. Hold the lamp higher, can’t you, man. Now, what did we come for? Port, yes, port. Now, there’s some ’96 somewhere, only a few bottles left. What does it say on this bin? I can’t read. Bring the light over here.”
“We drank up the last of the ’96, sir, when the film-acting gentlemen was here.”
“Did we, Florin, did we? We shouldn’t have done that, you know.”
“Very particular about his wine, Mr. Isaacs was. My instructions was to give them whatever they wanted.”
“Yes, but ’96 port. … Well, well. Take up two bottles of the ’04. Now, what else do we want? Claret—yes, claret. Claret, claret, claret, claret. Where do I keep the claret, Florin?”
Colonel Blount was just having tea—he had finished a brown boiled egg and was spreading a crumpet with honey—when Florin opened the library door and announced “Captain and Mrs. Littlejohn, sir.”
And Adam and Nina came in.
Colonel Blount put down his crumpet and rose to greet them.
“Well, Nina, it’s a long time since you came to see your old father. So this is my son-in-law, eh? How do you do, my boy. Come and sit down, both of you. Florin will bring some more cups directly. … Well,” he said, giving Adam a searching glance, “I can’t say I should have recognized you. I used to know your father very well indeed at one time. Used to be a neighbour of mine over at where-was-it. I expect you’ve forgotten those days. You used to come over here to ride with Nina. You can’t have been more than ten or eleven. … Funny, something gave me an idea you had red hair …”
“I expect you’d heard him called ‘Ginger,’ ” said Nina, “and that made you think of it.”
“Something of the kind, I dare say … extraordinary thing to call him ‘Ginger’ when he’s got ordinary fair hair … anyway, I’m very glad to see you, very glad. I’m afraid it’ll be a very quiet weekend. We don’t see many people here now. Florin says he’s asked a Captain and Mrs. Something-or-other to come and stay, damn his impudence, but I said I wouldn’t see them. Why should I entertain Florin’s friends? Servants seem to think after they’ve been with you some time they can do anything they like. There was poor old Lady Graybridge, now—they only found out after her death that her man had been letting lodgings all the time in the North Wing. She never could understand why none of the fruit ever came into the dining-room—the butler and his boarders were eating it all in the servants’ hall. And after she was ill, and couldn’t leave her room, he laid out a golf links in the park … shocking state of affairs. I don’t believe Florin would do a thing like that—still, you never know. It’s the thin edge of the wedge asking people down for the weekend.”
In the kitchen Florin said: “That’s not the Mr. Littlejohn I used to know.”
Mrs. Florin said, “It’s the young gentleman that came here to luncheon last month.”
Ada said, “He’s very nice looking.”
Florin and Mrs. Florin said, “You be quiet, Ada. Have you taken the hot water up to their bedroom yet? Have you taken up their suitcases? Have you unpacked them? Did you brush the Colonel’s evening suit? Do you expect Mr. Florin
