Mrs. Denison asked Eddy if he would come to lunch on Thursday to meet some of the Irish players, whom they were putting up for the week. The Denisons, being intensely English and strong Home Rulers, felt, besides the artistic admiration for the Abbey Theatre players common to all, a political enthusiasm for them as Nationalists, so putting three of them up was a delightful hospitality. Eddy, who shared both the artistic and the political enthusiasm, was delighted to come to lunch. Unfortunately he would have to hurry away afterwards to the Primrose League Fête at Great Shelford, but he did not mention this.
Consulting his watch, he found he was even now due at a meeting of a Sunday Games Club to which he belonged, so he said goodbye to the Denisons and went.
“Mad as a hatter,” was Arnold’s languid comment on him when he had gone; “but well-intentioned.”
“But,” said Margery, “I can’t gather that he intends anything at all. He’s so absurdly indiscriminate.”
“He intends everything,” her father interpreted. “You all, in this intense generation, intend much too much; Oliver carries it a little further than most of you, that’s all. His road to his ultimate destination is most remarkably well-paved.”
“Oh, poor boy,” said Mrs. Denison, remonstrating. She went in to finish making arrangements for a Suffrage meeting.
Margery went to her studio to hammer jewellery for the Arts and Crafts Exhibition.
Professor Denison went to his study to look over Tripos papers.
Arnold lay in the garden and smoked. He was the least energetic of his family, and not industrious.