<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</SPAN></h2>
<h3>A MAN'S HAND</h3>
<p>Whenever Dodo was in London for a Sunday, as was the case on the day
preceding her ball, she always gave up the hours until teatime,
inclusive, to David's uninterrupted society. They breakfasted together
at half-past nine, and immediately afterwards, usually before Jack had
put in an appearance at all, set off on the top of a bus, if the weather
made that delightful form of progress possible, to attend service in the
dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. A mere sprinkle of rain did not matter,
because then they crouched underneath an umbrella, and played at being
early Christians in a small cave, while if the inclemency was too severe
for any reasonable Christian to remain in a small cave, they dashed to
the tube-station at Down Street, and after traversing an extremely
circuitous route, like early Christians in an enormous rabbit-burrow,
emerged at Post Office Station, where another dash took them into
shelter. It was in fact only on the most tempestuous Sundays of all that
they were reduced to the degradation of ordering the motor, and going
there in dull dignity.</p>
<p>They did not always wait for the sermon; David<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</SPAN></span> had the option of going
away or remaining, for Dodo considered that a tired boy listening or not
listening to a sermon was likely to get a gloomier view of religious
practices than if he had been allowed to go away when he had had enough
and play early Christians in a cave again. But he had to decide whether
they should remain or go away while the preacher was being conducted to
the pulpit, and it was stipulated that if he decided to stop he must
abide by his choice and not retire in the middle of the sermon, since it
was not polite to interrupt people when they were talking to you.</p>
<p>To-day David had made a most unfortunate choice. The preacher was
entertaining for a few minutes merely because he had a high fluty voice
that echoed like a siren in the dome, but he said nothing of the
smallest interest, and had no idea whatever when to stop. Between his
sentences he made long pauses, and Dodo had got briskly to her feet
during one of these, thinking that the discourse was now over. So she
had to sit down again, and David, trying to swallow his desire to laugh,
had hiccupped loudly, which made three people in the row immediately in
front of them, turn round all together as if worked by one lever and
look fixedly at them, which was embarrassing.</p>
<p>One of them happened to be Lord Cookham, and it seemed likely that Dodo
would hiccup next. Then from a front chair close to the choir, Edith
Arbuthnot got up, curtsied low in the direction of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</SPAN></span> the altar before
turning her back on it, and began walking towards them down the gangway.</p>
<p>"Why did she curtsey, mummy? Was Prince Albert there?" asked David in a
whisper.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Dodo, not feeling capable of explaining it all just then.</p>
<p>One of Edith's boots creaked exactly an octave below the pitch of the
preacher's fluty voice. This sounded ever louder and more cheerfully as
she got nearer, and she stopped when she came opposite to them.</p>
<p>"Stop for the second service, Dodo," she said. "They're going to sing my
mass. I can't. I'm playing golf at Richmond. Good-bye."</p>
<p>Her creaking boot sounded in gradual diminuendo as she tramped away down
the nave.</p>
<p>"Mummy," began David in a piercing whisper. "If Mrs. Arbuthnot may go
out in the middle——"</p>
<p>Dodo conjectured what was coming.</p>
<p>"Because you're not grown up," she said. "Hush, David."</p>
<p>It was impossible to listen to the flute-like preacher, for his words
ran together like ink-marks on blotting-paper, and Dodo gave up all idea
of trying to hear what he was saying. But she had not the slightest wish
to follow Edith; to sit quiet in this huge church, dim and cool, charged
with the centuries of praise and worship which had soaked into it was
like coming out of the glare of some noisy noon-day, into the green
shelter of trees and moisture. Dodo had already finished<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</SPAN></span> saying her
prayers, but she tried to say to herself not very successfully, the
twenty-third Psalm which seemed to her expressive of her feelings, and
then abandoning that, gave herself over to vague meditation. Deep down
in her (very effectively screened, it must be allowed, by her passion
for the excitements and mundane interests of life) there existed this
chamber of contemplation for her soul, a real edifice, quite solid and
established. It was not in her nature to frequent it very much, and it
stood vacant for remarkably long periods together, but just now she was
ecstatically content, with David by her side, to sit there while the
voice of the preacher hooted round the dome. There she recaptured the
consciousness of the eternal, the secure, the permanent that underlay
the feverish motions of her days. They were like some boat tossing on
the surface of the waves, yet all the time anchored to a rock that lay
deep below all movement and agitation. Thus in such "season of calm
weather" she rested in a state of inertia that was yet intense and
vivid, and it was from just this power of conscious tranquillity that
she drew so much of the indefatigable energy that never seemed to grow
less with her advancing years. For her senses it was rest, for her soul
it was wordless prayer and concentration.</p>
<p>"That's all," said David suddenly jumping to his feet.</p>
<p>Dodo came out of her place of rest with no more shock than that with
which she awoke in the morning,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</SPAN></span> and observed that the preacher had left
the pulpit. Then Lord Cookham passed her with a fixed unconscious
expression, which made Dodo think that he was cutting her until she
remembered his avowed habit never to recognise even his nearest and
dearest in church. On the way down the nave she was filled with
consternation to find that her entire financial resources consisted of
one shilling, sixpence of which was absolutely necessary to enable her
and David to get home on the top of a bus, so what was to be done about
the offertory-plate which she knew would be presented to her notice near
the west door. She would hardly like to ask the verger for change. In
these circumstances she thought she might venture to appeal to Lord
Cookham, who was but a yard or two in front of her, and he, still
without sign of recognition gave her a new crisp five-pound note. This
also out of its very opulence rather than its exiguousness seemed to
stand in need of change, but the idea of applying to him again with the
confession that she did not want so much as that was clearly
unthinkable. She noticed, however, with rapt appreciation that his own
alms were not on this magnificent scale, for with silent secrecy, so
that his left hand should not know what his right was doing, he slid a
half-crown into the dish. It was fearfully and wonderfully like him to
hand her the larger sum and reserve for himself the smaller....</p>
<p>According to Sunday usage David had filled<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</SPAN></span> one of his pockets with
maize to give the pigeons that bowed and strutted about the pavement
outside the west door, and it was not till the early Christians had
boarded their bus (there was no need to-day for any cave beyond that
afforded by a parasol) that he could seek the solution of such
theological difficulties as had occurred during the service. The first
was as to why his spirit should long and faint for the converse of the
Saints. Didn't "converse" mean opposite? In this case his spirit longed
and fainted for wicked people.... Then there was the knotty point of
"special grace preventing us." David could only suppose that it meant a
very long grace, such as the bishop used when he stayed at Winston,
which prevented you from sitting down to dinner....</p>
<p>The "converse" of the early Christians drifted away to the more mundane
question of what was to be done after lunch. Here Dodo had the privilege
of suggesting though not of deciding, but her suggestion of the
Zoological Gardens led to an immediate decision.</p>
<p>"And I shall see the blue-faced mandrill," said David, "which you said
was so like Prince Albert. I shall stand in front of the cage and say
'Good-morning, Prince Albert.'"</p>
<p>Dodo had forgotten that she had made this odious comparison.</p>
<p>"You mustn't do anything of the sort, darling," she said. "The mandrill
wouldn't be at all pleased. Monkeys hate being told they are like<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</SPAN></span>
people, just as people hate being told they are like monkeys."</p>
<p>David considered this.</p>
<p>"It'll have to hate it then," he observed. "Does it cheat at croquet,
too?"</p>
<p>"There's the Salvation Army," said Dodo, skilfully changing the subject.
"And the lions in Trafalgar Square. We'll see the lions fed this
afternoon."</p>
<p>"Yes. And we'll see the mandrill fed. Does the mandrill eat as much
as——"</p>
<p>"No, not so much as the lions," said she.</p>
<p>"I wasn't going to say that, I was going to say 'does it eat as much as
Prince——' Oh, mummy, look. There's Jumbo! Hi! Uncle Jumbo!"</p>
<p>Their bus was just moving on again after stopping opposite the Carlton
Hotel, and there on the pavement, majestic and jewelled and turbanned
was that potentate who had already won so honourable a place in David's
heart that he had been promoted to the brevet-rank of an uncle. He
looked up at his nephew's shrill salutation, saw him and Dodo, and with
a celerity marvellous in one of his bulk, skipped off the pavement and
bounced and bounded along the street after them, presenting so amazing
an appearance that the conductor, instead of stopping the bus, stared
open-mouthed at this Oriental apparition. After a few seconds the
Maharajah giving up all thought of further hopeless pursuit stood in the
middle of the road<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</SPAN></span> waving his arms like a great brown jewelled
windmill, and blowing handfuls of kisses after them.</p>
<p>"Well run, Uncle Jumbo!" screamed David. "What a pity!"</p>
<p>A thin middle-aged lady, like a flat-fish (probably the person who tells
the public who was in the Park looking lovely) sitting on the seat next
Dodo peered over the side of the bus, and turned to her with an air of
haughty reproof.</p>
<p>"You should teach your little boy better manners," she said, "than to go
shouting such names at the Maharajah of Bareilly."</p>
<p>"Yes, David," said Dodo with a glance that he completely understood.
"Sit down at once, and don't be so rude, shouting names at people in the
street. And was that really the Maharajah, ma'am?"</p>
<p>This very proper behaviour appeared to mollify the flat-fish.</p>
<p>"Dear me, yes," she said. "That's the Maharajah of Bareilly. And he's so
good-natured, I'm sure he won't mind. He wears pearls valued at half a
million sterling."</p>
<p>"Indeed!" said Dodo. "That would make you and me very good-natured too,
wouldn't it?"</p>
<p>The flat-fish fingered a very brilliant cairngorm brooch, which she wore
to great advantage at her throat, in case Dodo hadn't noticed it. (She
had).</p>
<p>"So affable and pleasant too," said she. "Dear me, yes!"</p>
<p>"Oh, is he a friend of yours?" asked Dodo,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</SPAN></span> thrillingly interested, with
a side glance of approval at David, who was holding himself in, and
biting his lips like a good boy.</p>
<p>"The dear Maharajah of Bareilly!" exclaimed the flat-fish, not quite
committing herself. "Very full of engagements he is during his brief
visits here. To-morrow he dines with the Marchioness of Chesterford.
Lady Dodo, as her friends call her."</p>
<p>Dodo gave an awful jump as her name came out with such unexpectedness,
but pretended to sneeze so promptly that the effect might easily have
been confused with the cause.</p>
<p>"Where does she live?" she asked.</p>
<p>"At Chesterford House, to be sure, close to Hyde Park Corner. I will
point it out to you if you go as far. Dear me, fancy not knowing
Chesterford House and its beautiful ballroom, but I daresay it's very
pleasant living in the country. It's a strange thing now, but for the
moment when I came up on to the bus—though I seldom go by a bus—you
reminded me of the Marchioness."</p>
<p>Dodo could not resist pursuing this marvellous conversation. David
seemed safe, he was looking at the sky with blank frog-like eyes, and
quivering slightly.</p>
<p>"Oh, how lovely for me!" she said, as the bus slowed down in Piccadilly
Circus. "And do you know her too?"</p>
<p>They drew up a few yards down Piccadilly, and the conversation was
interrupted by the exit down<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</SPAN></span> the gangway of dismounting passengers.
During this pause the flat-fish was probably saved from direct perjury
by the violent hooting of a motor immediately behind them. Looking
round, Dodo saw Jumbo dismounting from his car, having evidently pursued
them up Lower Regent Street. Her new friend looked round too, and beamed
with excitement.</p>
<p>"Here's the Maharajah again!" she exclaimed. "Now you be quiet, little
boy, and we'll have a good look at him."</p>
<p>Dodo rapidly considered this dramatic situation. It seemed highly
probable that Jumbo would board the bus, as soon as its outgoing
passengers permitted him to do so. She decided on instant flight in
order to spare the flat-fish unimaginable embarrassment.</p>
<p>"We've got to get down here," she said hurriedly, "and we must keep
seeing Chesterford House for a treat some other day. Come along, David."</p>
<p>Jumbo's mission was to insist on Dodo and David coming back to lunch
with him at the Carlton, where he expected Lord Cookham, but Dodo first
of all hurried him away from the bus, over the top of which the face of
the flat-fish appeared gaping and wide-eyed.</p>
<p>"Jumbo, dear, we must get round a corner quickly," she said, "or David
will burst. There's a woman looking over the edge of it, who——"</p>
<p>David's pent-up emotion mastered him, and he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</SPAN></span> staggered after them
yelling and doubled up with laughter. There had never been so marvellous
a Sunday morning, and the joy of it was renewed next day when a
paragraph appeared in a certain journal with an admittedly large
circulation.</p>
<p>"The omnibus is becoming quite a fashionable mode of conveyance for the
aristocracy. I saw the Marchioness of Chesterford with her son, Lord
Harchester, now grown quite a big boy, dismounting from one at
Piccadilly Circus yesterday morning, where they stood chatting with the
Maharajah of Bareilly who will be the guest of Lady Dodo (as her friends
call her) at Chesterford House this evening."</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<p>At lunch Dodo vehemently defended her conduct on the bus.</p>
<p>"I could do nothing else," she said. "The other lady began. She rolled
over us like a tidal wave, didn't she, David, and told me to stop your
shouting at the Maharajah of Bareilly. I couldn't have explained that we
really knew you, and that David actually does call you Uncle Jumbo,
because she wouldn't have believed me. And what was I to do when she
said that I had reminded her of myself? I couldn't have said that I was
myself. She would never have believed that I wasn't somebody else. I
almost thought I was somebody else, too."</p>
<p>Lord Cookham condescendingly unbent to this frivolous conversation.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"A humorous situation," he said, "and one that reminds me of a similar
experience, though with a different ending, that once happened to me at
Corinth, where I arrived one day after a tour in the Peloponnese. My
courier had gone on ahead, but he was out on some errand when I found my
way to the home of the Mayor—the Demarch, as they still call him—where
quarters were prepared for me. He and his family, very worthy people,
and a few of the leading local tradesmen were awaiting my arrival. And I
arrived on foot, dishevelled, dusty and in my shirt-sleeves. For a
moment they positively refused to believe that I was myself."</p>
<p>Dodo's face had assumed a rapt air.</p>
<p>"How did you convince them?" she asked.</p>
<p>He made a conclusive little gesture with his hand.</p>
<p>"I did nothing," he said. "I did not even put on my coat, but lit a
cigarette, perfectly prepared to wait till the return of my courier. But
somehow they saw their mistake, and were profuse in apologies, which I
assured them were unnecessary."</p>
<p>"It's like clumps," said Dodo. "We've got to guess what it was that
convinced them. I believe you gave them five pounds for a local charity,
just as you gave me five pounds this morning. Or did they see the
coronet on your cigarette case?"</p>
<p>The impenetrable man smiled indulgently.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Scarcely," he said, "I imagine they just realised who I was."</p>
<p>"My dear, what a different ending, as you said, to my adventure on the
bus! They all felt your birth and breeding. That was it. With me there
was nothing of that kind to be felt. Wasn't it that you meant?"</p>
<p>The bland superiority of his face suffered no diminution. He gave his
butler-bow.</p>
<p>"I offer no explanation at all," he said, "I merely recounted an
experience similar in some ways to yours."</p>
<p>"And in some ways so different," said Dodo. "How wonderful the
perception of people at Corinth must be!"</p>
<p>Jumbo gave a loud quack of laughter like a wild goose, and entangled
himself with asparagus. Lord Cookham noticed nothing of this, and
proceeded.</p>
<p>"Talking of Greece, Lady Chesterford," he said, "I should like to remind
you that the Queen of the Hellenes, to call her by her more official
title, came up to London yesterday. I had the honour of waiting on her,
and the fact of your ball to-morrow drifted into our talk."</p>
<p>Dodo licked her lips.</p>
<p>"Who is she?" she asked. "Is she the sort of person I should like my
friends to meet?"</p>
<p>"The German Emperor's sister," said Lord Cookham.</p>
<p>"She shall come to dinner, too," said Dodo<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</SPAN></span> wildly. "There won't be
room, so Jumbo and I will have high tea with David upstairs. I shall
paint my face brown, and Jumbo shall paint his face white, and we'll be
announced as the white elephant from the Zoo, and the Maharanee of
Bareilly from India. Jumbo, dear, I'm going mad through too much success
for one of low birth. I think we won't have a dance at all, but we'll
mark out the floor of the ballroom into squares, and have a great game
of chess with real kings and queens, and two black bishops from the
Pan-Anglican Conference, and two white ones from the polar regions. Then
Daddy was made a knight the other day, so we'll try to get three more
knights, and we'll advertise for four respectable people called Castle.
Then by hook or crook, probably crook, we'll entice in sixteen mere
commoners to be the pawns. Lord Cookham, do you think we can get hold of
sixteen commoners between us? I shall direct the game from the gallery,
and I shall call out 'White Queen takes Black Bishop,' and then the
Queen of Greece will run across and pick up the Bishop of the Sahara
Desert, and put him in the nearest bathroom, where the taken pieces go.
No, I think I shall be a pawn myself. I shall divorce Jack in the
morning, and so I shall be a commoner again by the evening. And Edith
shall sing the 'Watch by the Rhine,' to make the Queen of Greece
comfortable. Then, we'll open all the windows and play draughts, and oh,
Jumbo, may I go away? As long as Lord Cookham sits opposite<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</SPAN></span> me looking
pained, I shall continue to talk this awful drivel. Let's all go to the
Zoo, and see if the blue-faced mandrill reminds him of a certain royal
personage or not. Oh, there are some delicious ices. I shan't go away
just yet. Jumbo, what a good lunch you're giving us, and all because
David howled at you from the top of a bus. Let me be calm, and see who
is here."</p>
<p>The difficulty rather was to see who was not here, for that day the
clattering restaurant overflowed with the crowds of those who live to
see and be seen. Jumbo's party occupied an advantageous position in the
centre of the room, and on all sides the tables teemed with the sort of
person whose hours of leisure provide material for small paragraphs in
the daily press, and many of them on their way out had a few words with
our particular group. Prince Albert of Allenstein was there alone,
"looking very greedy," as a veracious paragraphist might have remarked:
here was a Cabinet Minister, Hugo Alford, lunching with a prima-donna,
there an Australian tennis-champion with an eclipsed duchess, a French
pugilist and a cosmopolitan actress of quite undoubtful reputation
dressed in pearls and panther-skins. Then there was old Lady Alice Fane
bedizened in bright auburn hair and strings of antique cameos, looking
as if she had been given a Sunday off from her case in the British
Museum, smoking cigarettes and leaving out her aspirates, and with her a
peer, obviously from Jerusalem, the proprietor<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</SPAN></span> of a group of leading
journals, a sprinkling of foreign diplomatists, and several members of
the Russian ballet. Dodo, enjoying it all enormously, had kissings of
the hand for some of these, notes scribbled on the backs of menu-cards
for others, shrill remarks for nearer neighbours and an astounding sense
of comradeship for all the ingredients of this distinguished
<i>macédoine</i>. Only an hour ago she had been alone with David in the dim
dome of worship, diving down to the secret chamber of her soul; now with
equal sincerity and appreciation of the present moment she was a bubble
on the froth of life thrilled with the mere sense of the crowd whose
chatter drowned the blare of the band.</p>
<p>Never had the whirlpool of London life revolved more dizzily than in
these days of July; never had the revolt against quiet and rational
existence reached so murderous a pitch. Just now even the attraction of
Saturday-till-Monday house-parties in the country had waned before the
lure of London and the restaurant-life; at the most you would see thirty
or forty people in your week-end at a country-house, so, if a breath of
fresh air seemed desirable before Monday came round again, what was
easier than to motor down to Thames-side after lunch on Sunday, spend
the afternoon in Boulter's lock, dine and get back to town late that
night, or, if some peculiar attraction beckoned, hurry off again after
an early breakfast on Monday morning? The twenty-four hours of day and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</SPAN></span>
night must be squeezed of their last drop of possibilities; they must be
drunk to the dregs and the cup be filled again. The round of hours
passed like the last few minutes in some <i>casino</i> before closing-time;
there was such a little time left before London was sheeted and silent,
abandoned to care-takers and mournful cats. In a few weeks now the
squares would be littered with the first fallen leaves, and the windows
darkened. Till then leisure and sobriety of living were the two prime
enemies of existence.</p>
<p>"We're all mad," said Dodo breathlessly as this varied interchange of
greetings went on. "Why does it please everybody to see other people
like this, where you can't talk to them, and only scream a word in
greeting? Personally I love it, but I don't know why. Why don't we have
roast beef and Yorkshire pudding at home, and read a book afterwards or
talk to a friend instead of grinning at a hundred? Oh, look, Jumbo!
Vanessa hasn't got a stitch on except panther skins and pearls and
mottled stockings to match. How bad for David. David, darling, eat your
ice. Here she comes! Vanessa, dear, how perfectly lovely you look, and I
hear you're going to dance at Caithness House on Tuesday. Of course I
shall come. They didn't allow your great Dane in the restaurant? What
hopeless management, but perhaps you'll find he has eaten the porter
when you go out. Still, you know, if we all brought great Danes, there
might be rather a scrap. Hugo! I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</SPAN></span> never saw anything so <i>chic</i> as having
a red despatch-box brought you by a detective in plain clothes, in the
middle of lunch. You frowned too beautifully when you opened it, and are
hurrying out now exactly as if a European complication was imminent. I
believe you've been practising that all morning instead of going to
church. Mind you keep up your responsible air till the very last moment,
and then you can relax and go to sleep when you get back to the Foreign
Office. Darling Lady Alice, what delicious cameos! I believe you stole
them; there <i>aren't</i> any cameos like those outside the British Museum.
Yes, of course you're coming to me to-morrow night. I think I must have
sent you two invitations, and so they probably cancelled each other like
negatives. We shall finish up with eggs and bacon on Tuesday morning,
and I'm sure you'll look much fresher than any of us. Oh, there's the
Prime Minister talking to Hugo. They're doing it on purpose so as to
make us think that something terrific has happened. I like Prime
Ministers to be histrionic. He's taking something out of his pocket.
It's only a cigar; I hoped it would be an ultimatum. David, what a day
we're having!"</p>
<p>It was not till half-past three that Dodo remembered that the sea-lions
were fed at four, and the land-lions half an hour later, and got up.</p>
<p>"We mustn't miss it," she said. "I've sworn an oath unto David—oh,
that's profane. My dear, the keeper throws large dead fish into the air
and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</SPAN></span> the sea-lions catch them. Thank God, I'm not a sea-lion. I couldn't
possibly eat raw fishes, heads and tails and bones and skins. And then
there's the monkey-eating eagle, which I suppose they feed with monkeys.
Once when I was looking at it with Hugo who is so like a small grey ape,
the monkey-eating eagle brightened up like anything when it saw him. I
took Hugo away, as the bars didn't seem very strong. Bless you, Jumbo,
good-bye. Oh, may I take your motor just as far as Regent's Park and
keep it for an hour? Then you can get a taxi and come and have tea with
us at home, and reclaim it. And I haven't got any money; give me a
sovereign, please, Lord Cookham, because the more you give me, the more
chance there is of my remembering to repay you. How mean you were to
give me five pounds at St. Paul's for the offertory, and then contribute
half-a-crown yourself. I saw you. Look, there's Prince Albert coming;
let's go away at once, David, before he sees us."</p>
<p>Dodo dodged behind a tall waiter, whom she used as cover to effect an
unobserved exit, while the Prince made his ponderous way to the table
where she had been.</p>
<p>"I saw here Lady Dodo," he said to Lord Cookham, "and also now I do not
see her. And I wished to see her, for she has invited me to her dance,
but not to her dinner. I would be more pleased to go to her dinner and
not to her dance<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</SPAN></span> than to her dance and not her dinner. But now she is
not here, and I cannot tell her so. But soon I will telephone to her."</p>
<p>His large red face assumed an expression of infinite cunning, and he
closed one eye.</p>
<p>"I am here <i>en garçon</i>," he said. "I have given the Princess the slip.
She said 'I will go to church, and you will come with me to church,' and
I said 'Also I will not go to church,' and while she was at church, I
give her the slip. Ha!"</p>
<p>He lumbered out into the hall, and by way of amusing himself <i>en garçon</i>
sat down close to the band, and fell fast asleep.</p>
<p>David's happy day terminated after tea, and when Jumbo went off in his
recovered car about seven, Dodo found that she had still half an hour to
spare before she need dress for dinner. With an impulse very unusual
with her, she lay down on her sofa, and determined to have a nap rather
than busy herself otherwise. But before she had done more than arrive at
this conclusion, Jack came in.</p>
<p>"You and David had a good time?" he asked.</p>
<p>"Lovely! Church, bus, Carlton lunch, Zoo. Any news?"</p>
<p>Jack sat down on the edge of her sofa.</p>
<p>"I think there's going to be," he said. "Do you remember the murder of
the Archduke Ferdinand at Serajevo?"</p>
<p>"Yes, vaguely."</p>
<p>"Well, Austria has sent an ultimatum to Servia<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</SPAN></span> about it," he said,
"which Servia cannot possibly accept. Hugo told me. I met him this
afternoon going back to the Foreign Office."</p>
<p>"With a red despatch-box which was brought to him at the Carlton," said
Dodo. "How small the world is."</p>
<p>"Big enough. There's a meeting of the Cabinet to-morrow morning."</p>
<p>"Oh, then they'll have a nice long talk and settle it all," said Dodo
optimistically.</p>
<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</SPAN></span></p>
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