I’ve never been to a dinner-party before,” said Greta. “I’m frightfully excited. I was afraid we were going to be late, because Margaret was kept hours over time at her horrid shop. She had simply to whisk into her dress in about three minutes. I’d been quite ready for half an hour before she ever came in.”
Freddy Pelham beamed on his arriving guests.
“Your first dinner party? And my last in this house.”
“Your last?”
“Didn’t Margaret tell you I was going?”
It was Charles who said, “Yes, she told me, but I didn’t know you were off so soon.”
Freddy looked pathetic.
“What’s the good of my staying on? I can’t bear it, and that’s the fact.”
“You’re not selling the house?”
“No, I’m taking a leaf out of your book. I shall just lock it up and leave it standing, and then if I want to come back, I can. This is a little farewell party, just to keep me company my last night.”
Even Margaret looked surprised.
“I thought you weren’t going till the end of the month.”
“I’m moving over to my club to-morrow-letting the servants go and all that. And I may pop off any day without saying good-bye. Hateful things good-byes. I shan’t say any-I shall just pop off, and the next you know you’ll be getting picture postcards of Constantinople or Hong Kong – what? And now let’s enjoy ourselves.”
He turned to Greta.
“Your first dinner party? Now just think of that! I didn’t know I was to be so much honoured. And Margaret was late? That’s too bad! Well, I haven’t got to introduce anyone to you-have I? That’s splendid! And am I allowed to pay you a compliment on the very charming frock you have on?”
Greta giggled.
“It’s Margaret’s. I haven’t got any of my own things, you know.”
“Haven’t you? Haven’t you really? That’s too bad!”
Margaret slipped her hand inside Greta’s arm and pinched it.
“Come and look at this bit of jade. Isn’t it pretty? I used to love it when I was a little girl. Look-you can see the light through the grapes if you hold it in front of the lamp.”
Greta’s attention was diverted. As she went in to dinner on Freddy’s arm, she appeared to be occupied with the momentous question of whether green, “bright green like that funny bunch of grapes,” would really suit her. Did Freddy think it would? “Only I ought really to be in mourning for poor Papa.”
Margaret saw Charles’ eyebrows go up. He made a valiant attempt to distract Greta from what was due to “poor Papa.”
“You should always wear white. I’m all for the good old-fashioned heroine in white muslin and a blue sash. You know where you are then. If she’s got on white muslin and a blue sash, she’s the heroine, and you’re not kept all worked up wondering whether she’s the vamp in disguise.”
“Very nice,” said Freddy-“very nice indeed. I always did like to see a pretty girl in a white frock. Now your mother”-he turned to Margaret-“your mother was wonderful in white. I remember her telling me she wanted to wear a coloured dress when she had her miniature painted, and the lady who did it wouldn’t hear of it. Bless my soul, I can’t remember her name! It was Tod-no, it wasn’t Tod. And it wasn’t Mackintosh. Now that’s really very stupid of me, for your mother used to talk about her quite a lot and say what a pity it was she married that cousin of hers and went out to British Columbia with him and never touched a brush again. Nina-yes, it was Nina-No, it wasn’t McLean. Dear me, it’s very stupid of me! She painted uncommonly well, and exhibited every year at the Scottish Academy. But I can’t remember her name.”
“Wouldn’t it be on the miniature?” suggested Archie.
“Yes, yes, of course. We’ll have to look at it afterwards. Now you must all have some of this entree, because it’s uncommonly good. Margaret you’re not eating anything. My dear, I must really insist. By the way, that old desk of your mother’s-dear me now, I’ve forgotten what I was going to say about it, but there was something I was going to say. Now what was it?”
“When did Mother have it?” said Margaret.
“I don’t know. It’s an old thing-not worth your taking away, my dear.”
“Oh, but it was,” said Greta. “It was frightfully exciting when we found the little drawer.”
“A drawer?” Freddy’s voice was vague and puzzled.
“A little secret drawer just like my own had, underneath the place for the ink. And Margaret wouldn’t ever had found it for herself-would you, Margaret? And I shouldn’t have found it either, only my desk was just like this one and I dropped it carrying it down from the attic and a little bit got broken, so I could see there was a drawer there. And when I saw Margaret’s, I thought perhaps it would be the same. And it was.” Greta’s tone was triumphant.
The white frock, which Margaret had had in the spring and only worn once, was extravagantly becoming to Greta. The shaded lights touched up the gold in her hair. She leaned bare elbows on the dark polished table and talked with a child’s excitement.
“Wasn’t it funny Margaret’s desk being the same as mine? It was frightfully exciting when the little drawer came out and there was the envelope about the certificate.”
The table was a round one. Freddy Pelham had Margaret on one side of him and Greta on the other, Archie next Margaret, and Charles next Greta. As Greta said the word certificate, a manly heel came down hard upon the toe of her satin shoe. She blinked and said “Oh!” blinked again, and turned indignantly on Charles.
“You trod on me!”
Charles smiled a charming smile.
“My dear child, what do you mean? I never tread on people.”
“Then it was Archie. I think the front bit of my foot’s broken. Archie, why did you tread on me?”
Archie made an indignant denial. Freddy was full of fussy concern!
“You’re not really hurt? I do trust you are not really hurt-and just as you were telling us such an exciting story too. Did you say you had a desk like Margaret’s, and that you actually found something in a secret drawer?”
“All scrooged up,” said Greta, nodding her head. “It was frightfully exciting. But I don’t think I’d better tell you about it, because I’ve just remembered I promised I wouldn’t, so it’s no good your asking me really. And I expect that’s why Charles trod on me-only he needn’t have done it so hard-it hurt frightfully.”
She turned reproachful eyes on Charles, who burst out laughing.
“Greta, if you don’t stop being an enfant terrible, I shall do something worse than tread on you-I shall take you back to the flat and lock you in.”
“How horrid of you! Freddy, isn’t he horrid?”
“He’s a tyrant,” said Freddy. “He’s been travelling amongst savages, and he’s forgotten how to behave. Don’t take any notice of him. We were all getting most excited about your discovery. Don’t take any notice of Charles. Did you say you found a certificate? What sort of certificate?”
Greta shook her head.
“I did really promise I wouldn’t tell, so I won’t. I couldn’t when I’d really promised-could I? But I’ll tell you something I didn’t promise about, something simply frightfully exciting that only happened this evening, and that no one knows anything about but me.”
“Bless my soul!” said Freddy.
Charles leaned back in his chair. He looked at Margaret; but Margaret was looking at Greta with an air part startled, part weary. The weariness was uppermost. He thought she looked worn out, as if she were neither sleeping nor eating. The hastily put on black dress made her seem paler still. Why did she look like that? Her eyes had no fire left in them; they were tired-tired and hopeless.
Greta had begun her story. He reflected that one might just as well try to stop running water.
“It’s frightfully exciting-it really is. And even Charles doesn’t know about it, because it happened after he brought me home, and before Margaret came home.”
“What happened?” It was Margaret who asked.
“Well, Charles brought me home, and-Oh, Freddy, do you know, I really can drive!-Can’t I, Charles? I drove two miles, and Charles never touched the wheel once.”
“What happened after you got home?” This was Archie.
“Well, I thought I’d write to Stephanie and tell her I could drive. So I did. And then I thought I would go out and post it. So I went out, and there was a big car standing just opposite, and the chauffeur walking up and down. And I stopped under the lamp-post just to see if I had stuck my letter down properly, and then I went along to the letter-box. And when I got to the dark bit where the gardens are, I looked back because I heard something, and I saw the car coming along ever so slowly-just crawling, you know. And I thought it was going to stop at one of the houses, and it did. And I ran on to the pillar-box and put my letter in and started to come back. And it was still there.”
Greta’s words came faster and faster, and her cheeks got pinker and pinker. She made Margaret look like a ghost.
“Not very exciting so far,” said Charles drily.
“It’s going to be. You wait. When I got up to the car I did get a fright. The chauffeur spoke to me. He had a sort of growly voice, and he said, ‘Get in quick, miss.’ And I said, ‘It’s not my car.’ And he came after me, and he said I must come quickly because Egbert wanted me to.”
“Oh, Lord!” said Charles to himself.
Freddy said, “Egbert?” in a mild puzzled way.
“Oh, I oughtn’t to have said that! But you won’t tell anyone-will you? And Archie won’t. And I really didn’t mean to say his name, but it’s so frightfully difficult to remember all the things I mustn’t say. You’ll be frightfully nice-won’t you, and forget about my saying Egbert-won’t you?”
Freddy assured her that he had already forgotten.
“The fellow spoke to you-dash his impudence! And then what happened?”
“He said my cousin wanted me. It’ll be all right if I say my cousin, won’t it? I needn’t say his name.”
“What happened?” said Archie.
“I simply ran, and I gave a sort of scream. And he said, ‘Don’t make a noise.’ And I made a louder scream and simply ran like anything. And he caught my arm. Wasn’t it frightful? Only just then two cars came along out of that little crescent, and that frightened him, and he let go, and I never stopped running till I got home. Wasn’t it a frightful adventure?”