England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Social classes -- England -- Fiction
Norah was unusually pleasant to everybody all day: she gave Vincent some
sweets that she did not like herself; she offered to take Gladys and
Marjorie for a walk in Kensington Gardens, because a rumor had reached
her of a wonderful display of hats in one of the big shops in Kensington
High Street. She noticed that when her father came back from the office
he seemed to have forgotten about the scene of last night, and she saw
her mother's spirits rising at the prospect of an undisturbed evening.
After supper Mr. Caffyn sat down as usual in his arm-chair; Gladys and
Marjorie, tired after their long walk and exhausted with the
contemplation of shop-windows in which they had perceived nothing to
interest themselves, went off to bed without trying for a moment's
grace. The upper leaves of the dining-table were removed, and a party of
billiards was made up with Norah and Cecil matched against Roland and
Dorothy; Vincent was allowed to chalk the tips of the cues, Agnes and
Edna to quarrel over the marking. Mrs. Caffyn, with a sigh of relief for
the comfortable wheels on which the evening was running, took the
arm-chair opposite her husband and read with unusual concentration what
she imagined was yesterday's morning paper, but which, as a matter of
fact, was the morning paper of a month ago. Soon the front-door bell
rang, and a friend of Roland's, called Arthur Drake, with whom Norah had
been in love for a week about a year ago and of whom Dorothy was
slightly enamoured at the present, came in full of a new round game for
the billiard-table that he had just learned in another house. Cecil went
off to his home-work and left Arthur to explain the new game--a
complicated invention in which five small skittles, a cork, and a bell
suspended from the gas-bracket each played a part. Mr. Caffyn fended
off the butt-ends of the cues that were continually bumping into him
amid a great deal of shouting and laughter; Agnes trod on her mother's
corn; Vincent grazed his knuckles in fielding a billiard-ball that was
bound for his father's head.
"And where's old Wilfred?" Arthur Drake suddenly inquired.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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