'It is not the kind of thing that has ever been done in this house. Miss Emily would never permit it. As I say, I am sorry it occurred, but Agnes Woddell, the girl who did it, was upset and she's young too, and doesn't know what's fitting in a gentleman's house.'
'That's one for you, Joanna,' I thought gleefully.
'This Agnes who rung me up, Miss,' went on Partridge, 'she used to be in service here under me. Sixteen she was, then, and come straight from the orphanage. And you see, not having a home, or a mother or any relations to advise her, she's been in the habit of coming to me. I can tell her what's what, you see.'
'Yes?' said Joanna and waited. Clearly there was more to follow.
'So I am taking the liberty of asking you, Miss, if you would allow Agnes to come here to tea this afternoon in the kitchen. It's her day out, you see, and she's got something on her mind she wants to consult me about. I wouldn't dream of suggesting such a thing in the usual way.'
Joanna said bewildered, 'But why shouldn't you have anyone to tea with you?'
Partridge drew herself up at this, so Joanna said afterward and really looked most formidable, as she replied:
'It has never been the custom of this house, Miss. Old Mrs. Barton never allowed visitors in the kitchen, excepting as it should be our own day out, in which case we were allowed to entertain friends here instead of going out, but otherwise, on ordinary days, no. And Miss Emily keeps to the old ways.'
Joanna is very nice to servants and most of them like her but she has never cut any ice with Partridge.
'It's no good, my girl,' I said when Partridge had gone and Joanna had joined me outside. 'Your sympathy and leniency are not appreciated. The good old overbearing ways for Partridge and things done the way they should be done in a gentleman's house.'
'I never heard of such tyranny as not allowing them to have their friends to see them,' said Joanna. 'It's all very well, Jerry, but they can't like being treated like black slaves.'
'Evidently they do,' I said. 'At least the Partridges of this world do.'
'I can't imagine why she doesn't like me. Most people do.'
'She probably despises you as an inadequate housekeeper. You never draw your hand across a shelf and examine it for traces of dust. You don't look under the mats. You don't ask what happened to the remains of the chocolate souffle, and you never order a nice bread pudding.'
'Ugh!' said Joanna. She went on sadly: 'I'm a failure all around today. Despised by our Aimee for ignorance of the vegetable kingdom. Snubbed by Partridge for being a human being. I shall now go out into the garden and eat worms.'
'Megan's there already,' I said.
For Megan had wandered away a few minutes previously and was now standing aimlessly in the middle of a patch of lawn looking not unlike a meditative bird waiting for nourishment.
She came back, however, toward us and said abruptly, 'I say, I must go home today.'
'What?' I was dismayed.
She went on, flushing, but speaking with nervous determination:
'It's been awfully good of you having me and I expect I've been a fearful nuisance, but I have enjoyed it awfully, only now I must go back, because after all, well, it's my home and one can't stay away forever, so I think I'll go this morning.'
Both Joanna and I tried to make her change her mind, but she was quite adamant, and finally Joanna got out the car and Megan went upstairs and came down a few minutes later with her belongings packed up again.
The only person pleased seemed to be Partridge, who had almost a smile on her grim face. She had never liked Megan much.
I was standing in the middle of the lawn when Joanna returned. She asked me if I thought I was a sundial.
'Why?'
'Standing there like a garden ornament. Only one couldn't put on you the motto of only marking the sunny hours. You looked like thunder!'
'I'm out of humour. First Aimee Griffith ' – 'Gracious!' murmured Joanna in parentheses, 'I must speak about those vegetables' – 'and then Megan beetling off. I'd thought of taking her for a walk up to Legge Tor.'
'With a collar and lead, I suppose,' said Joanna.
'What?'
Joanna repeated loudly and clearly as she moved off around the corner of the house to the kitchen garden:
'I said 'With a collar and lead, I suppose?' Master's lost his dog, that's what's the matter with you!'
Chapter 4
I was annoyed, I must confess, at the abrupt way in which Megan had left us. Perhaps she had suddenly got bored with us.
After all, it wasn't a very amusing life for a girl. At home she had the kids and Elsie Holland.
I heard Joanna returning and hastily moved in case she should make more rude remarks about sundials.
Owen Griffith called in his car just before lunchtime, and the gardener was waiting for him with the necessary garden produce.
While Old Adams was stowing it in the car I brought Owen indoors for a drink. He wouldn't stay to lunch.
When I came in with the sherry I found Joanna had begun doing her stuff. No signs of animosity now. She was curled up in the corner of the sofa and was positively purring, asking Owen questions about his work, if he liked being a G.P., if he wouldn't rather have specialized? She thought doctoring is one of the most fascinating things in the world.
Say what you will of her, Joanna is a creature capable of listening attentively to anyone. After hearing the outpourings of so many young misunderstood geniuses telling her how they had been unapreciated all their lives, Owen Griffith was easy money. By the time we got to the third glass of sherry, Griffith was telling her about an obscure reaction or leson in such scientific terms nobody could have understood a word of it except a medico.
Joanna was looking intelligent and deeply interested.
I felt a moments qualm. It was really to bad. Griffith was too good a chap to be played fast with. Women really were devils.
Then I caught a sideways view of Griffith, his powerful chin and the thin set of his lips and I doubted that Joanna was going to have it her own way. Anyway, a man has no business to let himself be led by a woman. It's his own lookout if he does.
Then Joanna said:
'Do change your mind and stay to lunch, Dr. Griffith,' and Griffith flushed a little and said that only his sister would be expecting him back…
'We'll ring her up and explain,' said Joanna quickly, went out into the hall and did so.
I thought Griffith looked a little uneasy, and it crossed mind that he was probably a little afraid of his sister.
Joanna came back smiling and said that that was all.
And Owen Griffith stayed to lunch and seemed to enjoy himself. We talked about books and plays and world politics, and about music and painting and modern architecture.
We didn't talk about Lymstock at all, or about anonymous letters, or Mrs. Symmington's suicide.
We got right away from everything, and I think Owen Griffith was happy. His dark sad face lighted up, and he revealed an interesting mind.
When he had gone I said to Joanna, 'That fellow's too good for your tricks.'
'That's what you say!' Joanna said. 'You men all stick together!'
'Why are you out after his hide, Joanna? Wounded vanity?'
'Perhaps,' said my sister.
