At that moment she had got just half-way to Old Place, walking at unusual speed. Lucia grasped the situation with amazing quickness, and cutting off Georgie with a snap, she abandoned all idea of her party being impromptu, and rang up Olga. She would secure her anyhow….
The telephone was in the hall, and Olga, with her hat on, was just preparing to go out, when the bell sounded. The words of grateful acceptance were on her very lips when her front-door bell rang too, very long and insistently and had hardly left off when it began again. Olga opened the door herself and there was Mrs Quantock on the doorstep with her invitation for Saturday night. She was obliged to refuse, but promised to look in, if she was not very late in getting away from Mrs Lucas’s (and pop went the cat out of the bag). Another romp would be lovely.
Already the evils of decentralisation and overlapping were becoming manifest. Lucia rang up house after house, only to find that its inhabitants were already engaged. She had got Olga and Georgie, and could begin the good work of education and the crushing of rivalry, not by force but by pure and refined example, but Mrs Quantock had got everybody else. In the old days this could never have happened for everything devolved round one central body. Now with the appearance of this other great star, all the known laws of gravity and attraction were upset.
Georgie, again summoned to the telephone, recommended an appeal to Mrs Quantock’s better nature, which Lucia rejected, doubting whether she had one.
“But what about the tableaux?” asked Georgie. “We three can’t very well do tableaux for Miss Olga to look at.”
Then Lucia showed herself truly great.
“The merit of the tableaux does not consist in the number of the audience,” she said.
She paused a moment.
“Have you got the Cophetua-robe to set properly?” she asked.
“Oh, it’ll do,” said Georgie dejectedly.
On Tuesday afternoon Olga rang up Lucia again to say that her husband was arriving that day, so might she bring him on Saturday? To this Lucia cordially assented, but she felt that a husband and wife sitting together and looking at another husband and wife doing tableaux would be an unusual entertainment, and not characteristic of Riseholme’s best. She began to waver about the tableaux and to consider dinner instead. She also wondered whether she had been wronging dear Daisy, and whether she had a better nature after all. Perhaps Georgie might ascertain.
Georgie was roused from a little fatigued nap by the telephone, for he had fallen asleep over King Cophetua’s robe. Lucia explained the situation and delicately suggested that it would be so easy for him to “pop in” to dear Daisy’s, and be very diplomatic. There was nobody like Georgie for tact. So with a heavy yawn he popped in.
“You’ve come about this business on Saturday,” said Daisy unerringly. “Haven’t you?”
Georgie remembered his character for tact.
“How wonderful of you to guess that!” he said. “I thought we might see if we couldn’t arrange something, if we put our heads together. It’s such a pity to split up. We—I mean Lucia has got Miss Olga and her husband coming, and—”
“And I’ve got everybody else,” said Daisy brightly. “And Miss Bracely is coming over here, if she gets away early. Probably with such a small party she will.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t count on that,” said he. “We are having some tableaux, and they always take longer than you think. Dear me, I shouldn’t have said that, as they were to be impromptu, but I really believe my head is going. You know how thorough Lucia is; she is taking a great deal of trouble about them.”
“I hadn’t heard about that,” said Mrs Quantock.
She thought a moment.
“Well; I don’t want to spoil Lucia’s evening,” she said, “for I’m sure nothing could be so ridiculous as three people doing tableaux for two others. And on the other hand, I don’t want her to spoil mine, for what’s to prevent her going on with the tableaux till church-time next morning if she wishes to keep Miss Bracely away from my house? I’m sure after the way she behaved about my Guru— Well, never mind that. How would it be if we had the tableaux first at Lucia’s, and then came on here? If Lucia cares to suggest that to me, and my guests consent, I don’t mind doing that.”
By six o’clock on Tuesday evening therefore all the telephone bells of Riseholme were merrily ringing again. Mrs Quantock stipulated that Lucia’s party should end at 10.45 precisely, if it didn’t end before, and that everyone should then be free to flock across to her house. She proposed a romp that should even outshine Olga’s, and was deep in the study of a manual of “Round Games,” which included “Hunt the Slipper.”…
Georgie and Peppino took turns at the telephone, ringing up all Mrs Quantock’s guests, and informing them of the double pleasure which awaited them on Saturday. Since Georgie had let out the secret of the impromptu tableaux to Mrs Quantock there was no reason why the rest of Riseholme should not learn of this firsthand from The Hurst, instead of second-hand (with promises not to repeat it) from Mrs Quantock. It appeared that she had a better nature than Lucia credited her with, but to expect her not to tell everybody about the tableaux would be putting virtue to an unfair test.
“So that’s all settled,” said Georgie, as he returned with the last acceptance, “and how fortunately it has happened after all. But what a day it has been. Nothing but telephoning from morning till night. If we go on like this the company will pay a dividend this year, and return us some of our own pennies.”
Lucia had got a quantity of pearl beads and was stringing them for the tableau of Mary Queen of Scots.
“Now that everyone knows,” she said, “we might allow ourselves a little more elaboration in our preparations. There is an Elizabethan axe at the Ambermere Arms which I might borrow for Peppino. Then about the Brunnhilde tableau. It is dawn, is it not? We might have the stage quite dark when the curtain goes up, and turn up a lamp very slowly behind the scene, so that it shines on my face. A lamp being turned up very slowly is wonderfully effective. It produces a perfect illusion. Could you manage that with one hand and play the music of the awakening with the other, Georgino?”
“I’m quite sure I couldn’t,” said he.
“Well then Peppino must do it before he comes on. We will have movement in this tableau; I think that will be quite a new idea. Peppino shall come in—just two steps—when he has turned the lamp up, and he will take off my shield and armour—”
“But the music will never last out,” cried Georgie. “I shall have to start earlier.”
“Yes, perhaps that would be better,” said Lucia calmly. “That real piece of chain-armour too, I am glad I remembered Peppino had that. Marshall is cleaning it now, and it will give a far finer effect than the tawdry stuff they use in opera. Then I sit up very slowly, and wave first my right arm and then my left, and then both. I should like to practise that now on the sofa!”
Lucia had just lain down, when the telephone sounded again and Georgie got up.
“That’s to announce a dividend,” he said, and tripped into the hall.
“Is that Mrs Lucas’?” said a voice he knew.
“Yes, Miss Olga,” he said, “and this is me.”
“Oh,
