“I’ll open the cases for you, Mrs Hilliard. I’m a nailer at opening cases; ought to have been a furniture remover by profession. Give me wood and nails, and a litter of straw and sawdust, and I’m in my element. Better take ’em down to the hall and unpack them there, I suppose? Safest plan with breakables. Jolly good crockery you get from abroad! I was at winter sports with my sister, and she fell in love with a green pottery cruse business, half a franc, and as big as your head. I argued with her for an hour, but it was no good, buy it she would, and cuddled it in her arms the whole way home! If you have any green cruses, Mrs Hilliard, I’ll buy a dozen!”
Esmeralda thanked him, and proceeded to explain her arrangements in a manner elaborately composed. It appeared that she had displayed considerable ingenuity in the way of saving herself trouble.
“I sent instructions to each place that every article was to be marked in plain figures. We shall just have to translate them into English money and add on a little more. It’s unnecessary to re-mark everything afresh. I’ve engaged a joiner to be at the hall ready to fix up any boards or shelves which we may need, and of course he’ll unpack. There’s not the slightest reason for any one else to break his nails; there will be enough work for us on the day.”
“Are we to be dressed up in fancy character? It’s all so sudden that I’d like to know the worst at once,” sighed Honor plaintively. “I’ve been a Swiss maiden, and I’ve been a Dolly Varden, and I’ve been the Old Woman that lived in a Shoe, so I guess I can bear another turn of the screw. But I look real sweet in my new blue gown.”
“Wear it, then, wear it. It’s ridiculous dressing up in daylight in a village hall. Let every one wear what suits them best.”
“Wait till you see my waistcoat!” cried Stanor, and they rose from the table laughing, and breakfast was at an end.
Pixie made straight for the nursery. She was jarred and troubled by the scene which had just taken place, all the more so as it was by no means the first occasion during her short visit when Geoffrey and Joan had unmistakably “jarred.”
In the old days at Knock Castle Esmeralda’s tantrums had been accepted as part of the daily life, but six years spent in the sunshine of Bridgie’s home made a difference between husband and wife seem something abnormal and shocking. Imagine Dick sneering at Bridgie! Imagine Bridgie snapping back and relapsing into haughty indifference! The thing was preposterous, unthinkable! Could that be the reason of Esmeralda’s unrest, that she and her husband had outgrown their love? Pixie felt it equally impossible at that moment to sit quietly alone, or to talk naturally to her fellow-guests, but experience had proved that the most absolutely certain method of getting out of herself was to court the society of children. So she shut herself in the nursery with the two small boys, who took eery advantage of the unexpected treat without troubling their heads as to how it had come about.
Meantime the three guests started off on the usual morning peregrination of the grounds, and Joan followed her husband to his study, found him staring aimlessly out of the window, and accosted him in cold and biting tones.
“Geoffrey, I wish to speak to you. You are entitled to your own opinions, but the next time that you find them in opposition to mine I should be obliged if you would reserve your remarks until we are alone. If you have no consideration for me, you might at least consider your guests; it cannot be agreeable for them to overhear our differences.”