Foljambe came back to ask if Mrs. Lucas might pop in to pay her respects to Princess Isabel.
“So kind of her, but she must not dream of troubling herself,” said the Princess.
Foljambe retired and appeared for the third time with a faint, firm smile.
“Mrs. Lucas will ring up Mrs. Shuttleworth in a quarter of an hour,” she said.
The Princess finished her apple-tart.
“And now let us go and see the Museum,” she said.
Georgie remained behind to ring up Daisy, to explain when Lucia telephoned next that Olga had gone out, and to pay his visit to The Hurst. To pretend that he did not enjoy that, would be to misunderstand him altogether. Lucia had come down here with her smart party and had taken no notice of Riseholme, and now two people a million times smarter had by a clearly providential dealing come down at the same time and were taking no notice of her. Instead they were hobnobbing with people like himself and Daisy whom Lucia had slighted. Then she had laughed at the Museum, and especially at the catalogue and the mittens, and now the great-niece of the owner of the mittens had gone to see them. That was a stinger, in fact it was all a stinger, and well Lucia deserved it.
He was shown into the music-room, and he had just time to observe that there was a printed envelope on the writing-table addressed to the Evening Gazette, when Lucia and Mr. Merriall came hurrying in.
“Georgino mio,” said Lucia effusively. “How nice of you to come in. But you’ve not brought your ladies? Oh, this is Mr. Merriall.”
(Hermione, of the Evening Gazette, it’s proved, thought Georgie.)