Tranquil as Lady Constance’s mood was this morning, an ominous stoniness came into her grey eyes at these words, and there is little doubt that in another instant she would have discharged at her mutinous brother one of those shattering come-backs for which she had been celebrated in the family from nursery days onward; but at this juncture the Efficient Baxter appeared again through the bookshelf.
“Excuse me,” said Baxter, securing attention with a flash of his spectacles. “I forgot to mention, Lord Emsworth, that, to suit everybody’s convenience, I have arranged that Miss Halliday shall call to see you at your club to-morrow after lunch.”
“Good Lord, Baxter!” The harassed peer started as if he had been bitten in the leg. “Who’s Miss Halliday? Not another literary female?”
“Miss Halliday is the young lady who is coming to Blandings to catalogue the library.”
“Catalogue the library? What does it want cataloguing for?”
“It has not been done since the year 1885.”
“Well, and look how splendidly we’ve got along without it,” said Lord Emsworth acutely.
“Don’t be so ridiculous, Clarence,” said Lady Constance, annoyed. “The catalogue of a great library like this must be brought up to date.” She moved to the door. “I do wish you would try to wake up and take an interest in things. If it wasn’t for Mr. Baxter, I don’t know what would happen.”
And with a beaming glance of approval at her ally she left the room. Baxter, coldly austere, returned to the subject under discussion.
“I have written to Miss Halliday suggesting two-thirty as a suitable hour for the interview.”