arranged to meet Major Phillpot at a sale at a country house about fifteen miles away. They had some very nice stuff there and I'd already marked down two or three items in the catalogue. I was quite excited about the whole thing.
Phillpot was very knowledgeable about period furniture and silver and things of that kind, not because he was artistic – he was entirely a sporting man – but simply because he knew. His whole family was knowledgeable.
I looked over the catalogue at breakfast. Ellie had come down in a riding habit. She rode most mornings now – sometimes alone, sometimes with Claudia. She had the American habit of drinking coffee and a glass of orange juice and nothing much else for breakfast. My tastes now that I hadn't got to restrain them in any way, were very much those of a Victorian squire! I liked lots of hot dishes on the sideboard. I ate kidneys this morning and sausages and bacon as well. Delicious.
'What are you doing, Greta?' I asked.
Greta said she was meeting Claudia Hardcastle at the station at Market Chadwell and they were going up to London to a white sale. I asked what a white sale was.
'Does there really have to be white in it?' I asked.
Greta looked scornful and said that a white sale meant a sale of household linen and blankets and towels and sheets, etc. There were some very good bargains at a special shop in Bond Street of which she had been sent a catalogue.
I said to Ellie, 'Well, if Greta is going to London for the day, why don't you drive in and meet us at the George in Bartington. The food there's very good, so old Phillpot said. He suggested you might come. One o'clock. You go through Market Chadwell and then you take a turning about three miles after that. It's sign-posted, I think.'
'All right,' said Ellie, 'I'll be there.'
I mounted her and she went off riding through the trees. Ellie loved riding. She usually rode up one of the winding tracks and came out on the Downs and had a gallop before returning home. I left the smaller car for Ellie as it was easier to park and took the big Chrysler myself. I got to Bartington Manor just before the sale began. Phillpot was there already and had kept a place for me.
'Some quite nice stuff here,' he said. 'One or two good pictures. A Romney and a Reynolds. I don't know if you're interested?'
I shook my head. My taste at the moment was entirely for modern artists.
'Several dealers here,' Phillpot went on, 'a couple down from London. See that thin man over there with the pinched lips? That's Cressington. Pretty well known. Not brought your wife?'
'No,' I said, 'she's not awfully keen on sales. I didn't particularly want her to come this morning.'
'Oh? Why not?'
'There's going to be a surprise for Ellie,' I said. 'Did you notice Lot 4?'
He took a glance at the catalogue and then looked across the room.
'Hm. That papier mache desk? Yes. Rather beautiful little piece. One of the best examples of papier mache I've seen. Desk rather rare too. Plenty of handy tables. But this is an early example. Never seen one quite like it before.'
The little piece was inlaid with a design of Castle and the sides of it had bouquets of roses, assorted thistles and shamrock.
'Beautiful condition,' said Phillpot. He looked at me curiously, 'I shouldn't have thought your taste but -'
'Oh, it isn't,' I said. 'It's a little too flowery and like for me, but Ellie loves this stuff. It's her birthday next week and I want it as a treat for her. A surprise. That's why I didn't want her to know I was bidding for it. But I know there's nothing I could give her that she would like more. She'll be really surprised.'
We went in and took seats and the sale began.
The piece I wanted was run up pretty high. Several of the dealers seemed keen on it although they were so practised and reserved about it that you could hardly see the almost infinitesimal of his catalogue, but the auctioneer was observing closely. I bought also the Chippendale chair as well which I thought would go well in our hall and some enormous brocade curtains in condition.
'Well, you seem to have enjoyed yourself all right -' said Phillpot, rising to his feet when the auctioneer closed the morning's sale. 'Want to come back this afternoon?'
I shook my head.
'No, there's nothing in the second half of the sale that I want. Mostly bedroom furniture and carpets and things like that.'
'No, I didn't think you'd be interested. Well – ' he looked at his watch, 'we'd better be getting along. Is Ellie meeting us at the George?'
'Yes, she'll be there.'
'And – er – Miss Andersen?'
'Oh, Greta's gone to London,' I said. 'She's gone to what they call a white sale. With Miss Hardcastle, I believe.'
'Oh yes, Claudia said something about it the other day. Prices of sheets and things are fantastic nowadays. Do you know what a linen pillow case costs? Thirty-five shillings. Used to buy 'em from six bob.'
'You're very knowledgeable on household purchases,' I said.
'Well, I hear my wife complaining about them.' Phillpot smiled. 'You're looking in the pink of condition, Mike. Happy as a sandboy.'
'That's because I've got the papier mache desk,' I said, 'or at any rate that's partly it. I just woke up feeling happy this morning. You know those days when everything in the world seems right.'
'Mm,' said Phillpot, 'be careful. That's what's known as being fey.'
'Fey?' I said. 'That's something Scottish, isn't it?'
'It comes before disaster, my boy,' said Phillpot. 'Better curb your exuberance.'
'Oh, I don't believe those silly superstitions,' I said.
'Nor in gipsies' prophecies, eh?'
'We haven't seen our gipsy lately,' I said. 'Well not for a week at least.'
'Perhaps she's away from the place,' said Phillpot.
He asked me if I'd give him a lift in my car and I said I would.
'No use taking the two of them. You can drop me here on your way back, can't you? What about Ellie, will she be bringing her car over?'
'Yes, she's bringing the little one.'
'Hope the George will put on a good meal,' said Major Phillpot. 'I'm hungry.'
'Did you buy anything?' I asked. 'I was too excited to notice.'
'Yes, you've got to keep your wits about you when you're bidding. Have to notice what the dealers are doing. No. I made a bid or two but everything went far above my price.'
I gathered that although Phillpot owned enormous quantities of land round about, his actual income did not amount to much. He was what you might describe as a poor man though a large landowner. Only by selling a good portion of his land would he have had money to spend and he didn't want to sell his land. He loved it.
We got to the George and found a good many cars standing there already. Possibly some of the people from the auction. I didn't see Ellie's, though. We went inside and I looked around for her but she hadn't turned up yet. However, it was only just past one.
We went and had a drink at the bar while we were waiting for Ellie to arrive. The place was pretty crowded. I looked into the dining-room but they were still holding our table.
There were a good many local faces that I knew and sitting at a table by the window was a man whose face seemed familiar to me. I was sure I knew him but I couldn't remember when and where we'd met. I didn't think he was a local, because his clothes didn't fit in with these parts.
Of course I've knocked up against a great many people in my time and it is unlikely that I can remember them all easily. He hadn't been at the sale as far as I could remember, though, oddly enough, there had been one face that I thought I'd recognised but couldn't place. Faces are tricky unless you can connect up when and where you'd seen them.
The presiding goddess of the George, rustling in her usual black silk of affected Edwardian style which she always wore, came up to me and said,
