The next arrival was the Rev. Mr. Sopley, "all woe and whiskers," as Bindle had once described him. Mournfully he shook hands with all and, seating himself on the first available chair, cast his eyes up towards the ceiling, his habitual att.i.tude.

Alice sidled up to Mrs. Bindle and, in a whisper audible to all, enquired:

"Am I to call out the names, mum?"

"Certainly, Alice," replied Mrs. Bindle. "As each guest arrives you will announce the names clearly." Then turning to Mr. Hearty she said, "I think that you and Mr. MacFie ought to receive the guests at the door."

"Certainly, Elizabeth, certainly," said Mr. Hearty. There was unaccustomed decision in his voice. He was glad of something definite to do. Striding over to Mr. MacFie, he whispered to him and practically dragged him away from Millie. The two of them took up their positions near the door, where they stood staring at each other as if wondering what was to happen next.

Mrs. Hearty from time to time beat her chest.

"It's me breath," she confided to Mr. Sopley, then subsided into wheezing.

"Ha!" Mr. Sopley changed the angle of his gaze. Whenever spoken to he invariably opened his mouth with a jerk, as if he had been suddenly brought back from another world by someone hitting him in the wind. As often as not he re-closed his mouth without further sound. It was obvious to the most casual observer that he was here on earth because Providence had decreed it, and not from any wish of his own.

Suddenly Alice threw open the outer door.

"Mr. Pain and 'is wife, mum," she announced.

Mr. MacFie and Mr. Hearty became instantly galvanised into activity.

"Not his wife," corrected Mrs. Bindle in a whisper.

"But she is 'is wife," protested Alice indignantly. "Ain't you, mum?"

she enquired of Mrs. Pain.

Mrs. Pain simpered her acquiescence as she turned to Mr. MacFie and Mr. Hearty, who had raced towards her.

"You should say 'Mr. and Mrs. Pain,' Alice," said Mrs. Bindle with quiet forbearance.

"Sorry," remarked Alice, turning to go. "I ain't used to this 'ere.

Why can't they come in without all this yelling out of names?" she muttered. "They ain't trains."

Mr. Pain, a small man with a bald head and a tuft of black hair in the centre of a protruding forehead, shook hands joyfully with Mr. MacFie and Mr. Hearty. He was wearing a black frock-coat and light brown tweed trousers, a white waistcoat and a royal blue tie. Mrs. Pain was a tall thin woman, garbed in a narrow brown skirt with a cream-coloured bodice, over-elaborated with lace. The sleeves of her blouse reached only just below the elbows, and the cream gloves on her hands failed to form a liaison with the blouse. Round her neck was flung a locket suspended by a ma.s.sive "gold" chain. Both she and Mr.

Pain were violent in their greetings, after which they proceeded over to two chairs by the wall where they seated themselves and proceeded to converse in undertones, Mr. Pain drawing on a pair of black kid gloves.

"Mr. and Mrs. Withers," bawled Alice.

Mrs. Bindle nodded approval, and Mr. and Mrs. Withers shook hands with Mr. Hearty and Mr. MacFie, much as Mr. and Mrs. Pain had done.

Mr. Withers carried a small sandy head on one side, and a frock-coat tightly b.u.t.toned over his narrow chest. His smallness was emphasised by the vastness of Mrs. Withers, whose white silk bodice, cut low at the neck, and black skirt, fitted her amorously, as if the wearer's intention were to diminish her size.

For some time Alice carried out her duties with marked success, and Mr. MacFie and Mr. Hearty were kept as busy as an American President at election time. An unfortunate episode occurred in connection with two of the most important members of Mr. MacFie's flock, Mr. Tuddenham and Mr. Muskett.

Mr. Tuddenham was a stout, self-important little man with a red face and a "don't--you--dare--to--argue--with--me--sir" air. Mr. Muskett, on the other hand, was tall and lean with lantern jaws, a sallow complexion and a white beard. Mr. Tuddenham's clothes fitted him like a glove; Mr. Muskett's hung in despairing folds about his person. Mr.

Tuddenham wore a high collar, which cut viciously into his red neck; Mr. Muskett's neckwear was nonconformist in cut. Mr. Tuddenham glared at the world through fierce, bloodshot eyes; Mr. Muskett gazed weakly over the top of a pair of pince-nez that hung at one side. Mr.

Muskett's voice was an overpowering boom, contrasting oddly with the thin, high-pitched notes of Mr. Tuddenham. Mr. Tuddenham was as upright as a bantam; Mr. Muskett drooped like a wilted lily. No one had ever seen Mr. Muskett without Mr. Tuddenham, or Mr. Tuddenham without Mr. Muskett.

Alice appeared to have considerable difficulty over their names, during which Mr. MacFie and Mr. Hearty stood pretending not to be aware of the presence of the new arrivals. Eventually Alice nodded rea.s.suringly and, taking a step into the room, announced:

"Mr. Muddenham and Mr. Tuskett."

"Tuddenham, girl, Tuddenham!" shrieked Mr. Tuddenham.

"Muskett, I said, Muskett!" boomed Mr. Muskett.

For a moment Alice regarded them with some apprehension, then her face broke into a smile and, with a sideways nod of her head in the direction of the new guests and a jerk of her thumb, she turned laughing to the door, giving a backward kick of mirth as she went out.

The guests now began to arrive thick and fast.

Miss Torkington brought her tow-coloured hair and pince-nez, and a manner that seemed to shout virtue and chast.i.ty. She was all action and vivacity, and nothing could dam the flow of her words, just as none could have convinced her that in her pale-blue princess-robe with its high collar she was not the derniere crie.

Mrs. Bindle had taken up her position near the door, so that she might correct Alice, should occasion arise.

"The butcher and 'is missus," announced Alice.

"Alice, Alice!" protested Mrs. Bindle in a loud whisper. "You mustn't announce people like that. You should say Mr. and Mrs. Gash."

"I asked 'im, mum," protested Alice, "and that's wot 'e said."

Mrs. Bindle looked anxiously from Mr. Gash, in a check suit and red tie, to his wife in a royal blue short skirt, a pink blouse and white boots with ta.s.sels. They smiled good-humouredly. Mrs. Bindle sighed her relief.

Mrs. Bindle decided that it would be wise to leave Alice to her own devices. She knew something of the temper of the outraged domestic. In consequence Alice announced without rebuke Mr. Hippitt as "Mr.

Pip-Pip," and Mrs. Muspratt as "Miss Musk-Rat."

Presently her voice was heard without raised in angry reproaches.

"What's your name?" she was heard to demand. "I got to call it out."

"No, you don't, Ruthie dear," was the reply.

Mr. Hearty and Mrs. Bindle exchanged glances. They recognised that voice.

"You leggo, I ain't one of them sort," said the voice of Bindle.

"You ain't goin' in till you give me your name, so there!" was Alice's retort.

The guests focused their attention upon the door. Suddenly it opened a foot and then crashed to again.

"Ah! thought you'd got through, didn't you?" they heard Alice cry triumphantly.

Suddenly the door opened again and Bindle entered with Alice striving to restrain him.

"Now, Ruthie, I'm married; if I wasn't, well, anythink might 'appen.

Look! 'ere's my coat and 'at, so don't say I 'aven't trusted you.

'Ere, leggo!"

Bindle made an impressive figure in his evening clothes, patent boots, a large "diamond" stud in the centre of his shirt, a geranium in his b.u.t.ton-hole, and a red silk handkerchief tucked in the opening of his waistcoat.