“You’re referring to the land that came with her … and the gold.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Don’t you like Ben, Angelet?”
I felt my face twist into a wry smile. “Oh,” I said, trying to speak lightly, “he is clever and amusing and all that.”
“You speak as though you don’t approve.”
“It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. He is happy presumably. I believe he has a splendid house and brilliant prospects. What more can he want? Lizzie, of course, is another matter.”
She wrinkled her brows and looked intently at me. “You are rather vehement.”
“Am I? I didn’t realize it. Tell me, how are things with you? What do you do all the time?”
“I have so little time to spare. I have entertained a little. Of course, my house is rather small. I have some amusing dinner parties. The Lansdons senior have always been good to me and so have Helena and Matthew. They invite me to their houses and there I meet interesting people and ask a few of them to my place. But since Ben and Lizzie came I seem to have much more to do.”
“Ben said you have acted as a sort of duenna to Lizzie.”
“Did he?” She smiled rather complacently. “Well, I couldn’t let the poor innocent little thing loose in the jungle, could I?”
“You call the social circle a jungle?”
“It is in a way. She is such an innocent lamb, and as to clothes, she has no idea how to dress.”
“I thought she looked very charming the other night.”
“My guidance, my dear. I steer her through. I tell her to talk to people … what to say … what they are interested in. She is doing quite well. By the way, there was no more news about that man and the watch, was there?”
“No,” I told her, “nothing at all.”
“I don’t suppose we shall hear any more of it. That’s as well, don’t you agree?”
I did agree.
And I thought to myself: Something has happened. I wonder what.
I was amazed at the grandeur of Ben’s house. Uncle Peter’s had always seemed splendid, but this was more so.
There were chandeliers in the hall and at the top of the wide staircase where Ben and Lizzie stood receiving their guests. Grace was standing a little to the side—like a lady-in-waiting.
There were about thirty guests, many of them well known in political circles. Uncle Peter came up to me. He took my hand and kissed it.
“What do you think of this establishment?” he asked.
“Quite glorious,” I replied.
“To tell the truth I’m a little envious. It took Ben to outdo me.”
“People say he is a chip off the old block.”
“I often regret it took us so long to get together. Irregularities in family life cause so many regrets. I suppose that was why the conventions were thought of in the first place. If you obey them, you sail peacefully through life.”
“Wouldn’t that be a little dull for someone of your temperament?”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But I should not advise anyone embarking on life to fly in the face of them.”
“To be different from you … and Ben … who have been so successful?”
“We are of a kind. We shouldn’t founder. Some would. I once heard a story about Walter Raleigh and the Queen. He scratched on the glass of a window with a diamond, ‘Fain would I climb, but fear I to fall.’ The Queen took the diamond from him and scratched underneath, ‘If your heart fails you, climb not at all.’ They were very careless with their property. Fancy disfiguring a beautiful window in that way! But perhaps for such sound good sense it was worth it.”
“You were never afraid to climb.”
“Oh no, I suppose not, and I have done some dangerous mountaineering in my time. Ben is like me. Far more than Peterkin is … or Helena for that matter.”
“Yes,” I mused. “You must have been a very attractive man when you were young, Uncle Peter.”
He laughed. “That suggests that you think Ben is very attractive and I am no longer so.”
“I didn’t mean that. You’ll always be attractive … both of you.”
“That reminds me of another quotation. This is our honored friend, Disraeli. ‘Everyone likes flattery but when you come to royalty you must lay it on with a trowel.’ Is that what you are doing now, my dear, laying it on with a trowel?”
“Indeed not … but I do always think of you as King of the family so you are royalty in a way. But what I said is true and has nothing to do with your status.”
“You are a dear girl. You remind me of your grandmother. I was very sad when she died. It seemed such a terrible end for someone so bright and attractive … and so young. Oh dear, you are making me morbid. And here is my noble daughter-in-law Frances coming towards us. I shall leave you with her for she is such a righteous lady who always reminds me of the sinner I am.”
“Dear Uncle Peter, it is so good to be with you.”
“Ah, Frances,” he said. “Where is Peterkin? Oh, I see … over there. I daresay you are longing to have a talk with Angelet. I shall leave you together. I must have a word with some of the guests.”
Peterkin joined us. He and Frances told me how pleased they were to see me, and they asked if I intended to stay long in London.
“It depends,” I said. “I haven’t made up my mind. I have the house here and I can be completely independent which is very pleasant. Not that I haven’t been given wonderful hospitality by Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis.”
“I understand that you like your independence,” said Frances. “You might like to come to see us at the Mission.”
“I intended to invite myself if you didn’t ask me,” I said.
“My dear, there is no need to wait for invitations, is there, Peterkin?”
“Of course there is not. We’d love to see you there. We might even make use of you.”
“There is always a great deal to do,” explained Frances, “especially now we have enlarged the place considerably. We have the house next door now which has made us almost double the size. We have big kitchens. We make gallons of soup each day, don’t we, Peterkin? Good nourishing stuff. We’re always looking for someone to give a hand.”
“Most of our workers,” Peterkin explained, “work because they believe in what we are doing. So we have to have most people of independent means. We can’t afford to pay many people. We need all the money we can get for the work.”
“I know you have done wonders.”
“A lot has been due to my generous father-in-law,” said Frances. “He is very helpful, particularly when there is some political crisis and he wants to call attention to the family’s good works. Matthew benefits from it. And all he asks is that it is known where the help comes from. A small price to pay for the goods, as I always say.”
Frances was a little cynical about Uncle Peter. I knew there was always a motive behind almost everything he did—but he did give the money to the Mission which had made a great deal of difference to it.
“Well, do come along, soon,” said Frances.
And I promised I would.
Dinner was a sparkling occasion. Ben, from the top of the table, led the conversation which was amusing, witty and topical, and there were many references to what was going on in the political field. Many of them seemed to be on intimate terms with “Dizzy” and Mr. Gladstone and Her Majesty herself. There were references to the Queen’s gillie, John Brown, who, some thought, was more than her gillie; they talked of the rather scandalous cartoons appearing in the press, and speculated as to whether the sly gossip would bring the Queen out of her retirement.
I noticed that Grace joined in the conversation and seemed to be as knowledgeable as any of them. Lizzie said hardly a word. She sat at the end of the table, opposite Ben, an unwilling hostess. She looked at times as though she were going to burst into tears and I noticed how often her eyes strayed to Grace, who was seated a pace or two away from her. But Grace was engaged in animated conversation and did not look poor Lizzie’s way.