They were ushered through a hall that resembled most of the halls in the world, it was dominated by a handsome oak staircase and scarcely gave Miss Sharsper a point, and then across a creation of the Victorian architect, a massive kind of conservatory with classical touches—there was an impluvium in the centre and there were arches hung with manifestly costly Syrian rugs, into a large apartment looking through four French windows upon a verandah and a large floriferous garden. At a sideways glance it seemed a very pleasant garden indeed. The room itself was like the rooms of so many prosperous people nowadays; it had an effect of being sedulously and yet irrelevantly over-furnished. It had none of the large vulgarity that Mr. Brumley would have considered proper to a wealthy caterer, but it confessed a compilation of “pieces” very carefully authenticated. Some of them were rather splendid “pieces”; three big bureaus burly and brassy dominated it; there was a Queen Anne cabinet, some exquisite coloured engravings, an ormolu mirror and a couple of large French vases that set Miss Sharsper, who had a keen eye for this traffic, confusedly cataloguing. And a little incongruously in the midst of this exhibit, stood Lady Harman, as if she was trying to conceal the fact that she too was a visitor, in a creamy white dress and dark and defensive and yet entirely unabashed.
The great butler gave his large vague impression of Lady Beach-Mandarin’s name, and stood aside and withdrew.
“I’ve heard so much of you,” said Lady Beach-Mandarin advancing with hand upraised. “I had to call. Mr. Brumley——”
“Lady Beach-Mandarin met Sir Isaac at Black Strand,” Mr. Brumley intervened to explain.
Miss Sharsper was as it were introduced by default.
“My vividest anticipations outdone,” said Lady Beach-Mandarin, squeezing Lady Harman’s fingers with enthusiasm. “And what a charming garden you have, and what a delightful situation! Such air! And on the very verge of London, high, on this delightful literary hill, and ready at any moment to swoop in that enviable great car of yours. I suppose you come a great deal into London, Lady Harman?”
“No,” reflected Lady Harman, “not very much.” She seemed to weigh the accuracy of this very carefully. “No,” she added in confirmation.
“But you should, you ought to; it’s your duty. You’ve no right to hide away from us. I was telling Sir Isaac. We look to him, we look to you. You’ve no right to bury your talents away from us; you who are rich and young and brilliant and beautiful——”
“But if I go on I shall begin to flatter you,” said Lady Beach-Mandarin with a delicious smile. “I’ve begun upon Sir Isaac already. I’ve made him promise a hundred guineas and his name to the Shakespear Dinners Society,—nothing he didn’t mention eaten (you know) and all the profits to the National movement—and I want your name too. I know you’ll let us have your name too. Grant me that, and I’ll subside into the ordinariest of callers.”
“But surely; isn’t his name enough?” asked Lady Harman.