Dandy thanked her politely, having expressed no opinion whatever on the matter. Hamer looked across with a twinkle in his eye. Both Harriet and Helwise pleased him mightily. The buffeting breeziness of the one moved him to tolerant amusement, while the silvery ineffectiveness of the other claimed his chivalry. He promised subscriptions without demur, and Helwise almost purred aloud. Lancelot was so ridiculously narrow and proud. Why, these new people liked to be asked!
“You’ll be going to the Show, of course?” Harriet demanded. “Bluecaster Agricultural Show, I mean. What do you do? Oh, you—you prod. Sheep and cows and things, that is. I’m showing, of course, and if I don’t get anything there’ll be a row. Perhaps you know I farm? And you scrap with your friends as to which hunter will grab the card—at least, other people do. I’ve given it up myself, because I’m always right. Occasionally I get a bit lost at the Royal, and have to fall back on Lanty Lancaster, but I’m always O.K. at these local arrangements. You’ll join the choral society, I suppose? I’m nothing of a singist personally, but I always put in an appearance. They like it. Keeps the thing together, don’t you know? I’m not sure that it’s quite good form to have much of a voice—looks a bit like swank—so you’ll be all right. Lanty Lancaster used to belong at one time. He’s got a few decent notes somewhere round the bottom C.”
“Wiggie—Mr. Wigmore—sings, too,” Dandy put in meekly, glad of a chance to speak. The pale young man was the only friend from the old life that had managed to get into touch with the new. He had stayed on unobtrusively after the others had departed blatantly, and the house had not repudiated him. Harriet gave him a casual stare.
“Oh?” she said, not at all encouragingly. “Not platforms and things, I hope? We leave that to the tradespeople, here. Evening-dress and a red handkerchief—you know! Are you only stopping, or do you belong? You might enter for my bumble-puppy tournament, next Thursday.”
The pale young man looked regretful.
“I’d love to, but I shan’t be here, worse luck! I’ve got to sing for a few people, that very day. I’m so sorry.”
“Platforms and things, I’m afraid!” Dandy added, with a touch of mischief. “But a white handkerchief. That’s something, isn’t it?”
Harriet looked puzzled.
“But don’t you do anything?” she inquired briskly. “What’s your handicap at golf? You look rather like a bank. Are you a bank? Surely you do something besides sing?”
Dandy opened her lips sharply, but Wiggie’s gentle gaze crossed her own, checking her.