came to life. Grubb seized his barrow and trundled it away. William bent to his mower, the groom vanished, the parlourmaid scurried from the dining-room. Swindle drained his glass, woke up and reached for his shoes. Lucy jumped to her feet. Lady Dromio sat down.
Lady Dromio sat down, took up a piece of embroidery, and looked extremely composed. ‘Swindle,’ she said as the butler shuffled through the hall, ‘what was that horrible noise?’
Swindle gave his mistress a sidelong malevolent glance. ‘Urrr!’ he said disagreeably, and proceeded on his way.
Lady Dromio sighed, with the air of one whom the insolence of an old retainer has long since subdued. But the eye which she directed upon the doorway was keen and cold. She had not long to wait. There was a screech of brakes beneath the portico beyond, a bang and a clatter in the vestibule, and the door was flung open to admit a hurrying man somewhat past late middle age. ‘Well!’ His glance seized upon Lady Dromio at once. ‘Is he here?’
Very deliberately Lady Dromio completed a stitch. She rose. ‘Sebastian,’ she said, ‘how nice to see you. But we were afraid you would not arrive till after dinner. I do hope that the water is reasonably hot. Swindle–’
Swindle made a displeasing snuffling noise in his nose. He was looking at Mr Sebastian Dromio with a dim but questioning eye. ‘We do our best, your ladyship,’ he said. ‘But the boiler isn’t what it was, not by a long way.’ It would have been charitable to say that Swindle’s voice croaked, since this is a quality that may be induced merely by age. It contrived at once to croak and snarl. ‘It might run to a shower – not but what that looks less than Mr Sebastian needs.’
It was true that Sebastian Dromio gave the impression of being extremely hot and dusty. Now he sent his hat skimming towards the stomach of an advancing footman and himself strode over to his sister-in-law. ‘Well,’ he reiterated unceremoniously, and on a rising note. ‘ Has he turned up? This afternoon I found out–’
Lady Dromio’s eye travelled from Swindle twitching his wrinkled nose to the second footman retrieving the hat, and then on to the first footman who was coming through the vestibule with Sebastian’s bags. ‘I think,’ she said, ‘that I will come upstairs with you myself, just to see that things are as they should be. Robert, those suitcases are very dusty; take them away and clean them before bringing them to Mr Dromio’s room.’ Lady Dromio turned and mounted the stairs. ‘Really, Sebastian,’ she murmured, ‘you might be a little less dramatic, whatever the occasion may be. I have been reading a very interesting novel, all about a big hotel, and there is a man who keeps rushing–’
‘Damn your novel! Has Oliver not turned up?’
‘He has not turned up.’ Lady Dromio’s placidity was unruffled. ‘There is quite enough remark about it all already, without your shouting the house down. And a great deal of practical awkwardness too. The local bank manager came to see me this morning. It seems that there has been some hitch in the money that comes through from London–’
‘I can well believe it.’
‘And, as you know, the mere monthly outgoings here are very large. It is absurd in Oliver to keep so many servants, particularly those tiresome men. But here is your room, and everything seems in order. I expect that Lucy has given an eye to it.’
‘Very kind of her.’ Sebastian was perfunctory. ‘But the point is that there’s more than awkwardness round the corner. There’s some deuced odd revelation.’
‘Some revelation!’ Lady Dromio had gone very still. ‘What sort of revelation do you mean?’
‘Money, of course.’ Sebastian Dromio threw off his dustcoat and sat down by a window which commanded the park. He was old, his sister-in-law thought as she looked at him in the level evening light. In fact he was just as old as her dead husband would be now… She
Lady Dromio sat down, took up a piece of embroidery, and looked extremely composed. ‘Swindle,’ she said as the butler shuffled through the hall, ‘what was that horrible noise?’
Swindle gave his mistress a sidelong malevolent glance. ‘Urrr!’ he said disagreeably, and proceeded on his way.
Lady Dromio sighed, with the air of one whom the insolence of an old retainer has long since subdued. But the eye which she directed upon the doorway was keen and cold. She had not long to wait. There was a screech of brakes beneath the portico beyond, a bang and a clatter in the vestibule, and the door was flung open to admit a hurrying man somewhat past late middle age. ‘Well!’ His glance seized upon Lady Dromio at once. ‘Is he here?’
Very deliberately Lady Dromio completed a stitch. She rose. ‘Sebastian,’ she said, ‘how nice to see you. But we were afraid you would not arrive till after dinner. I do hope that the water is reasonably hot. Swindle–’
Swindle made a displeasing snuffling noise in his nose. He was looking at Mr Sebastian Dromio with a dim but questioning eye. ‘We do our best, your ladyship,’ he said. ‘But the boiler isn’t what it was, not by a long way.’ It would have been charitable to say that Swindle’s voice croaked, since this is a quality that may be induced merely by age. It contrived at once to croak and snarl. ‘It might run to a shower – not but what that looks less than Mr Sebastian needs.’
It was true that Sebastian Dromio gave the impression of being extremely hot and dusty. Now he sent his hat skimming towards the stomach of an advancing footman and himself strode over to his sister-in-law. ‘Well,’ he reiterated unceremoniously, and on a rising note. ‘ Has he turned up? This afternoon I found out–’
Lady Dromio’s eye travelled from Swindle twitching his wrinkled nose to the second footman retrieving the hat, and then on to the first footman who was coming through the vestibule with Sebastian’s bags. ‘I think,’ she said, ‘that I will come upstairs with you myself, just to see that things are as they should be. Robert, those suitcases are very dusty; take them away and clean them before bringing them to Mr Dromio’s room.’ Lady Dromio turned and mounted the stairs. ‘Really, Sebastian,’ she murmured, ‘you might be a little less dramatic, whatever the occasion may be. I have been reading a very interesting novel, all about a big hotel, and there is a man who keeps rushing–’
‘Damn your novel! Has Oliver not turned up?’
‘He has not turned up.’ Lady Dromio’s placidity was unruffled. ‘There is quite enough remark about it all already, without your shouting the house down. And a great deal of practical awkwardness too. The local bank manager came to see me this morning. It seems that there has been some hitch in the money that comes through from London–’
‘I can well believe it.’
‘And, as you know, the mere monthly outgoings here are very large. It is absurd in Oliver to keep so many servants, particularly those tiresome men. But here is your room, and everything seems in order. I expect that Lucy has given an eye to it.’
‘Very kind of her.’ Sebastian was perfunctory. ‘But the point is that there’s more than awkwardness round the corner. There’s some deuced odd revelation.’
‘Some revelation!’ Lady Dromio had gone very still. ‘What sort of revelation do you mean?’
‘Money, of course.’ Sebastian Dromio threw off his dustcoat and sat down by a window which commanded the park. He was old, his sister-in-law thought as she looked at him in the level evening light. In fact he was just as old as her dead husband would be now… She
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