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Page 60
Every night shortly before half-past eight--at which hour Mr.
Beach felt that he might safely withdraw from the dining-room and
leave Lord Emsworth and his guests to the care of Merridew, the
under-butler, and James and Alfred, the footmen, returning only
for a few minutes to lend tone and distinction to the
distribution of cigars and liqueurs--those whose rank entitled
them to do so made their way to the housekeeper's room, to pass
in desultory conversation the interval before Mr. Beach should
arrive, and a kitchen maid, with the appearance of one who has
been straining at the leash and has at last managed to get free,
opened the door, with the announcement: "Mr. Beach, if you please,
dinner is served." On which Mr. Beach, extending a crooked elbow
toward the housekeeper, would say, "Mrs. Twemlow!" and lead the
way, high and disposedly, down the passage, followed in order of
rank by the rest of the company, in couples, to the steward's
room.
For Blandings was not one of those houses--or shall we say
hovels?--where the upper servants are expected not only to feed
but to congregate before feeding in the steward's room. Under the
auspices of Mr. Beach and of Mrs. Twemlow, who saw eye to eye
with him in these matters, things were done properly at the
castle, with the correct solemnity. To Mr. Beach and Mrs. Twemlow
the suggestion that they and their peers should gather together
in the same room in which they were to dine would have been as
repellent as an announcement from Lady Ann Warblington, the
chatelaine, that the house party would eat in the drawing-room.
When Ashe, returning from his interview with Mr. Peters, was
intercepted by a respectful small boy and conducted to the
housekeeper's room, he was conscious of a sensation of shrinking
inferiority akin to his emotions on his first day at school. The
room was full and apparently on very cordial terms with itself.
Everybody seemed to know everybody and conversation was
proceeding in a manner reminiscent of an Old Home Week.
As a matter of fact, the house party at Blandings being in the
main a gathering together of the Emsworth clan by way of honor
and as a means of introduction to Mr. Peters and his daughter,
the bride-of-the-house-to-be, most of the occupants of the
housekeeper's room were old acquaintances and were renewing
interrupted friendships at the top of their voices.
A lull followed Ashe's arrival and all eyes, to his great
discomfort, were turned in his direction. His embarrassment was
relieved by Mrs. Twemlow, who advanced to do the honors. Of Mrs.
Twemlow little need be attempted in the way of pen portraiture
beyond the statement that she went as harmoniously with Mr.
Beach as one of a pair of vases or one of a brace of pheasants
goes with its fellow. She had the same appearance of imminent
apoplexy, the same air of belonging to some dignified and haughty
branch of the vegetable kingdom.
"Mr. Marson, welcome to Blandings Castle!"
Ashe had been waiting for somebody to say this, and had been a
little surprised that Mr. Beach had not done so. He was also
surprised at the housekeeper's ready recognition of his identity,
until he saw Joan in the throng and deduced that she must have
been the source of information.
He envied Joan. In some amazing way she contrived to look not out
of place in this gathering. He himself, he felt, had impostor
stamped in large characters all over him.
Mrs. Twemlow began to make the introductions--a long and tedious
process, which she performed relentlessly, without haste and
without scamping her work. With each member of the aristocracy of
his new profession Ashe shook hands, and on each member he
smiled, until his facial and dorsal muscles were like to crack
under the strain. It was amazing that so many high-class
domestics could be collected into one moderate-sized room.
"Miss Simpson you know," said Mrs. Twemlow, and Ashe was about to
deny the charge when he perceived that Joan was the individual
referred to. "Mr. Judson, Mr. Marson. Mr. Judson is the Honorable
Frederick's gentleman."
"You have not the pleasure of our Freddie's acquaintance as yet,
I take it, Mr. Marson?" observed Mr. Judson genially, a
smooth-faced, lazy-looking young man. "Freddie repays
inspection."
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