CHAPTER XI

I had luncheon in the club and then, without waiting even for a cup of coffee and a cigarette, went back to my hotel. I felt that I must make the most perfect possible arrangements for my tea party. The violence of my invitations would naturally raise Lalage's expectations to the highest pitch. I sent for the head waiter, who had struck me as an able and intelligent man.

"I am expecting some ladies this afternoon," I said, "and I shall have tea in my sitting room at five o'clock. I want everything to be as nice as possible, fresh flowers and that kind of thing."

The man nodded sympathetically and gave me the impression that long practice had familiarized him with the procedure of tea parties for ladies.

"These ladies are young," I said, "quite young, and so the cakes must be of the most sumptuous possible kind, not ordinary slices cut off large cakes, but small creations, each complete in itself and wrapped in a little paper frill. Do you understand what I mean?"

He said he did, thoroughly.

"I need scarcely say," I added, "that many if not all of the cakes must be coated with sugar. Some ought to be filled with whipped cream. The others should contain or be contained by almond icing."

The head waiter asked for information about the size of the party.

"There are only two ladies," I said, "but they are bringing a young man with them. We may, as he is not here, describe him as a boy. Therefore there must be a large number of cakes, say four dozen."

The head waiter's eyebrows went up slightly. It was the first sign of emotion he had shown.

"I sha'n't eat more than two myself," I said, "so four dozen ought to be enough. I also want ices, twelve ices."

This time the head waiter gasped. It was a cold, a remarkably cold, day, with an east wind and a feeling in the air as if snow was imminent.

"You mustn't understand from that," I said, "that the fire is to be allowed to go out. Quite the contrary. I want a particularly good fire.

When the others are eating ices I shall feel the need of it."

The head waiter asked if I had a preference for any particular kind of ice.

"Strawberry," I said, "vanilla, and coffee. Three of each, and three neapolitan. That will make up the dozen. I shall want a whole box of wafers. The ices can be brought in after tea, say at twenty minutes past five. It wouldn't do to have them melting while we were at the cakes, and I insist on a good fire."

The head waiter recapitulated my orders to make sure that he had got them right and then left me.

At twenty minutes to five Lalage and Hilda arrived. They looked very hot, which pleased me. I had been feeling a little nervous about the ices. They explained breathlessly that they were sorry for being late. I rea.s.sured them.

"So far from being late," I said "you're twenty minutes too early. I'm delighted to see you, but it's only twenty minutes to five."

"There now, Hilda," said Lalage, "I told you that your old chronometer had most likely darted on again. I should have had lots and lots of time to do my hair. Hilda's watch," she explained to me, "was left to her in her grandmother's will, so of course it goes too fast. It often gains as much as two hours in the course of the morning."

"I wonder you trust it," I said.

"We don't. When we got your first 'gram in the Elizabethan we looked at the clock and saw that we had heaps of time. When your second came--Selby-Harrison sent it over from number 175--we began to think that Hilda's watch might be right after all and that the college clock had stopped. We went back _ventre a terre_ on the top of a tram to Trinity Hall and found your third 'gram waiting for us. That made us dead certain that we were late. So we slung on any rags that came handy and simply flew. We didn't even stay to hook up Hilda's back. I jabbed three pins into it in the train."

"I'm sorry," I said, "that you troubled to change your frocks. I didn't expect that you'd have to do that."

"Of course we had. Didn't you know we were in for an exam this morning?"

"I did know that; but I thought you'd have had on your very best so as to soften the Puffin's heart."

"The poor old Puffin," said Lalage, "wouldn't be any the wiser if we turned up in our night dresses. He thinks of nothing but parallaxes.

Does he, Hilda?"

Hilda did not answer. She was wriggling her shoulders about, and was sitting bolt upright in her chair. She leaned back once and when she did so a spasm of acute pain distorted her face. It occurred to me that one of the three pins might have been jabbed in too far or not precisely in the right direction. Lalage could not fairly be blamed, for it must be difficult to regulate a pin thrust when a tram is in rapid motion, I did not like the idea of watching Hilda's sufferings during tea, so I cast about for the most delicate way of suggesting that she should be relieved. Lalage was beforehand with me.

"Turn round, Hilda," she said, "and I'll hook you up."

"Perhaps," I said, "I'd better ring and get a housemaid."

"What for?" said Lalage.

"I thought perhaps that Hilda might prefer to go to a bedroom. I don't matter, of course, but Selby-Harrison may be here at any moment."

"Selby-Harrison isn't coming. Turn round, Hilda, and do stand still."

A waiter came in just then with the tea, I regret to say that he grinned. I turned my back on him and looked out of the window.

"Selby-Harrison," said Lalage, "is on Trinity 3rd A., inside left, and there's a cup match on to-day, so of course he couldn't come."

"This," I said, "is a great disappointment to me. I've been looking forward for years to making Selby-Harrison's acquaintance, and every time I seem to be anywhere near it, something comes and s.n.a.t.c.hes him away. I'm beginning to think that there isn't really any such person as Selby-Harrison."

Hilda giggled thickly. She seemed to be quite comfortable again. Lalage snubbed me severely.

"I must say for you," she said, "that when you choose to go in for pretending to be an a.s.s you can be more funerally idiotic than any one I ever met. No wonder the Archdeacon said you'd be beaten in your election."

"Did he say that?"

"Yes. We were talking to him this morning, Hilda and I and Selby-Harrison, outside the exam hall. We told him we were going down to make speeches for you."

"Was it before or after you told him that he said I'd be beaten?"

"Before," said Lalage firmly.

"Oh, Lalage! How can you? You know----"

I interrupted Hilda because I did not want to have the harmony of my party destroyed by recrimination and argument.

"Suppose," I said, "that we have tea."

"I must say," said Lalage, "that you've collected a middling good show of cakes, hasn't he, Hilda?"

Hilda looked critically at the tea table. She was evidently an expert in cakes.

"You can't have got all those out of one shop," she said. "There isn't a place in Dublin that has so many varieties!"

"I'm glad you like the look of them. Which of you will pour out the tea?"

"Hilda's birthday was last month," said Lalage. "Mine isn't till July."

This settled the point of precedence. Hilda took her seat opposite the teapot.