As they retraced their way along the edge of the Green, movement came back to Riseholme again. Lucia’s policy with regard to the Museum had declared itself. Georgie strolled up to Mrs. Boucher’s bath-chair. Mrs. Boucher was extremely red in the face, and her hands were trembling.
“Good evening, Mr. Georgie,” she said. “Another party of strangers, I see, visiting the Museum. They looked very odd people, and I hope we sha’n’t find anything missing. Any news?”
That was a very dignified way of taking it, and Georgie responded in the same spirit.
“Not a scrap that I know of,” he said, “except that Olga’s coming down to-morrow.”
“That will be nice,” said Mrs. Boucher. “Riseholme is always glad to see her.”
Daisy joined them.
“Good evening, Mrs. Quantock,” said Mrs. Boucher. “Any news?”
“Yes, indeed,” said Daisy rather breathlessly. “Didn’t you see them? Lucia and her party?”
“No,” said Mrs. Boucher firmly. “She is in London surely. Anything else?”
Daisy took the cue. Complete ignorance that Lucia was in Riseholme at all was a noble manœuvre.