CHAPTER X
Radmore felt secretly relieved that he and Timmy got home too late forhim to see Mr. Tosswill alone before dinner. And when at last he camedown, just a minute or two late, for he had to do things for himself towhich he had become unaccustomed--unpacking his bag, putting out hisevening clothes, placing of studs in his evening shirt, and so on--hefound what looked to him like a large party of strangers all gatheredtogether in the dear old drawing-room.
As he walked in among them he looked first with quick interest at thethree girls. Yes, Timmy was right--Rosamund was lovely. Dolly struck himas commonplace, though as a matter of fact she looked more attractivethan usual. Betty looked very hot--or was it that the exquisitecomplexion that once had been her chief physical beauty had gone?
After a moment or two Betty slipped out of the room, leaving Radmore andMr. Tosswill shaking hands quite cordially, if a little awkwardly.
"Well, sir, here I am again, turned up just like a bad penny!" And hishost answered absently:--"Yes, yes, Godfrey--very glad to see you, I'msure."
Then, after he had shaken hands with Janet and Tom, they all stoodtogether on the hearthrug waiting, so Radmore supposed, for theparlourmaid to come in and announce dinner.
But instead of that happening, the door opened and Timmy appeared. "Willyou come into the dining-room? Everything's ready now."
They all followed him, three of the younger ones--Tom, Dolly andRosamund--laughing and whispering together. Somehow Timmy neverassociated himself with those of his brothers and sisters nearest tohim in age.
Radmore came last of all with Janet. He felt as if he were in a strange,unreal dream. It was all at once so like and so unlike what he hadexpected to find it. All these quiet, demure-looking young strangers,instead of the jolly, familiar children he had left nine years ago--and,as he realised with a sharp pang--no George. He had not known tillto-night how much he had counted on seeing George, or at least on hearingall about him. Instead, here was Jack, so very self-possessed--or was itsuperior?--in his smart evening jacket. He could hardly believe that Jackwas George's brother.
For a moment he forgot Betty. Then he saw her come hurrying in. Hercolour had gone down, and she looked very charming, and yet--yes, astranger too.
The table was laid very much as it had been in the old days on a Sunday,when they always had supper instead of dinner at Old Place. But to-daywas not Sunday--where could all the servants be?
Janet, looking very nice in the bright blue gown her little son hadadmired, placed the guest on her right hand. To her left, Timmy,with snorts and wriggles, settled himself. The others all sortedthemselves out; Betty sat the nearest to the door, on the right ofher father,--lovely Rosamund on his left.
Timmy stood up and mumbled out a Latin grace. How it brought backRadmore's boyhood and early manhood days! But in those days it was Tom,a simple cherubic-looking little boy of seven, who said grace--the usual"For what we are going to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful!"The stranger--how queer to think he was a stranger here, in this familiarroom--did not care for the innovation.
They all sat down, and Radmore began to eat his soup, served in a coveredcup. It was very good soup, and as he was rather tired and hungry, heenjoyed it. Then Timmy got up and removed the cup and its cover; andsuddenly the guest became aware that only four people at the table hadtaken soup--himself, Mr. Tosswill, Jack, and Timmy. What an odd thing!
They were all rather silent, and Radmore began to have a strange, uncannyfeeling that none of them could see him, that he was a wraith, projectedout of the past into the present. It was a novel and most disconcertingsensation. But no one glancing at his keen face, now illumined with ahalf humorous expression of interest, would have guessed the mixed andpainful feelings which possessed him.
He stole a look to his left. Janet, in his eyes, was almost unchanged. Ofcourse she looked a thought older, a thought thicker--not so much in herupright figure, as in her clever, irregular-featured face. In the days ofhis early manhood she had never seemed to him to be very much older thanhimself--but now she looked a lifetime older than he felt.
Only Mr. Tosswill looked absolutely unchanged. His mild benevolent face,his deep blue eyes, his grey hair, seemed exactly the same as whenRadmore had last sat down, in the Old Place dining-room, to a full table.That had been in the Christmas holidays of 1910. Very well he rememberedall that had happened then, for he and Betty had just become engaged.
At nineteen Betty Tosswill had belonged to the ideal type ofold-fashioned English girlhood--high-spirited, cheerful, artless yetintelligent, with a strong sense of humour. She had worn a pink eveningfrock during those long-ago Christmas holidays, and had looked, at anyrate in her young lover's eyes, beautiful.
They had been ardently, passionately in love, he a masterful, exactinglover, and though seeming older than his age, without any of themagnanimity which even the passage of only a very few years brings tomost intelligent men. Poor little Betty of long ago--what a child shehad been at nineteen!--but a child capable of deep and varied emotions.
At the time of their parting he had been absorbed in his own selfishsensations of anger, revolt, and the sharp sense of loss, savagely gladthat she was unhappy too. But after he had gone, after he had plungedinto the new, to him exciting and curious, life of the great vesseltaking him to Australia, he had forced himself to put Betty out of hismind, and, after a few days, he had started a violent flirtation with themost attractive woman on board the liner. The flirtation had developed,by the time they reached Sydney, into a serious affair, and had been thedetermining cause why he had not written even to George. Godfrey Radmorehad not thought of that woman for years. But to-night her now hateful,meretricious image rose, with horrid vividness, before him. It had beenan ugly, debasing episode, and had dragged on and on, as such episodeshave a way of doing.
Wrenching his mind free of that odious memory, he looked across at Betty.Yes, it was at once a relief and something of a disappointment to feelher, too, transformed into a stranger. For one thing she had had, whenhe had last seen her, a great deal of long fair hair. But she had cut itoff when starting her arduous war work, and the lack of it altered heramazingly, all the more that she did not wear her short hair "bobbed," inwhat had become the prevailing fashion, but brushed back from her lowforehead, and staidly held in place by a broad, black, snood-like ribbon.
He looked to his right, down the old-fashioned, almost square diningtable. Jack was the least changed, after his father, of the young peoplesitting at this table. Jack, nine years ago, had been a rather complacentboy, doing very well at school, the type of boy who is as if marked outby fate to do well in life. Yes, Jack had hardly changed at all, butRadmore, looking at Jack, felt a sudden intolerable jealousy forGeorge....
He came back with a start to what was going on around him, and idly hewondered what had happened to all the servants this evening. Truth totell he had been just a little surprised and taken aback at not findinghis bag unpacked and his evening clothes laid out before dinner.
Timmy had slipped out of his chair and brought him a plateful of roastmutton, and now Rosamund was playing waitress, smiling at his elbow, alovely Hebe indeed, with dishes of potatoes and greens. He helped himselfa little awkwardly, while Timmy was taking round platefuls of meat to hisfather, to Jack, and finally one to his own little self.
Then Betty went out of the room, and came back with a large dish ofmacaroni cheese, which she put on a side table. Jack got up and whisperedsomething to her rather angrily. He was evidently remonstrating with herfor not having allowed him to go and get the dish, for he motioned herrather imperiously back to her seat by her father, while he himself,calling to Dolly to help him, dealt out generous portions of macaronicheese to those who had not taken meat.
All at once Timmy exclaimed in his shrill voice:--"I like macaronicheese. Why shouldn't I have a little to-day, too? Here, Tom, you takemy meat, and I'll have your macaroni cheese." He did not wait for Tom'sassent to this peculiar proposal, and w
as proceeding to effect theexchange when Tom muttered crossly, while yet, or so Radmore fancied,casting rather longing eyes at Timmy's plate.
"You know perfectly well you've got to have meat to drive the ghostiesout of your silly head."
Timmy submitted with a grunt of disappointment, and the meal proceeded.Again Radmore felt surprised and puzzled. Was it conceivable that thewhole family--with the exception of Mr. Tosswill, Jack and Timmy, hadbecome so High Church that Friday was with them a meatless day?