Humorous stories; London (England) -- Fiction; Lucia (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Women -- England -- Fiction
She sat down to think, and the unwelcome result of thought was a faint
suspicion that just as she had decided to ignore Riseholme while her
smart party from London was with her, Riseholme was malignant enough to
retaliate. It was very base, it was very childish, but there was that
possibility. She resolved to put a playful face on it and rang up
Georgie. From the extraordinary celerity with which he answered, she
wondered whether he was expecting a call from her or another.
“Georgino mio!” she said.
The eagerness with which Georgie had said, “Yes. Who is it?” seemed to
die out of his voice.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said. “Good morning.”
Lucia was not discouraged.
“Me coming round to have good long chat,” she said. “All my tiresome
guests have gone, Georgie, and I’m staying till _domani_. So lovely to
be here again.”
“_Si_,” said Georgie; just “‘_si_’.”
The faint suspicion became a shade more definite.
“Coming at once then,” said Lucia.
Lucia set forth and emerging on to the Green, was in time to see Daisy
Quantock hurry out of Georgie’s house and bolt into her own like a plump
little redfaced rabbit. Somehow that was slightly disconcerting: it
required very little inductive reasoning to form the theory that Daisy
had popped in to tell Georgie that Lucia had asked her to lunch, and
that she had refused. Daisy must have been present also when Lucia rang
Georgie up and instead of waiting to join in the good long chat had
scuttled home again. A slight effort therefore was needed to keep
herself up to the gay playful level and be quite unconscious that
anything unpropitious could possibly have occurred. She found Georgie
with his sewing in the little room which he called his study because he
did his embroidery there. He seemed somehow to Lucia to be encased in a
thin covering of ice, and she directed her full effulgence to the task
of melting it.
“Now that is nice!” she said. “And we’ll have a good gossip. So lovely
to be in Riseholme again. And isn’t it naughty of me? I was almost glad
when I saw the last of my guests off this morning, and promised myself a
real Riseholme day. Such dears all of them, too, and tremendously in the
movement; such arguments and discussions as we had! All day yesterday I
was occupied, talks with one, strolls with another, and all the time I
was longing to trot round and see you and Daisy and all the rest. Any
news, Georgie? What did you do with yourself yesterday?”
“Well, I was very busy too,” said Georgie. “Quite a rush. I had two
guests at lunch, and then I had tea at Olga’s----”
“Is she here still?” asked Lucia. She did not intend to ask that, but
she simply could not help it.
“Oh yes. She’s going to stop here two or three days, as she doesn’t sing
in London again till Thursday.”
Lucia longed to ask if the Princess was remaining as well, but she had
self control enough not to. Perhaps it would come out some other way....
“Dear Olga,” said Lucia effusively. “I reckon her quite a Riseholmite.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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