Part 11 (1/2)
”If they would not think they were amusing themselves, I could endure it,” she said, ”but they solemnly pretend it's amus.e.m.e.nt and frivolous at that. One old lady told me gravely, she hardly thought it seemly that the Dean should so lend himself to the pleasures of the world.
There, the violets are not spoilt at all. The Dean gave them to me: it's the one thing he can do--grow violets. You shall have them all to yourself.” She fetched a silver cup and began arranging them. Aymer ceased to be tired, ceased to be anything but supremely content as his eyes followed her. She went on relating her experience until she had made him laugh, and then she came and sat on a little stool near him.
”May I have the babies down?”
Aymer pretended to grumble.
”You'll go to them if I say no,” he complained, ”so I have no option.”
The bell was rung and the babies ordered to descend.
”Before they come, Caesar, I'm going to ask you a favour,” she said coaxingly, ”now you are in a good temper again.”
”Was I in a bad one?”
”Dreadful. It mustn't reoccur. It is such a bad example for the children.”
”The favour, please; bother the children.”
”Caesar, I'm ashamed of you. Bless them, you meant to say. Well, the favour. Aymer, I am going to start a creche in Winchester near the big clothing factory. I've talked to the Bishop and he quite approves. I know just the house, but I shall have to buy it, and I haven't enough money for that. I can run it easily if I can only get the premises.
What will you subscribe?”
”I haven't any money at all,” he replied gravely. ”Vespasian takes it all and I don't think he'd approve of creches, not being a family man.”
”Vespasian, indeed.” She tilted her chin in the air as Aymer meant her to do, a trifle too much, and the effect was spoilt, but he was well practised in obtaining the exact tilt he admired.
”You can ask him, of course.”
”Very likely I will: in the meantime what will you give me?”
”Half a crown. No; five whole s.h.i.+llings, if I have it,” he said teasingly.
She considered the matter gravely. ”I am not quite sure. I should not like to inconvenience you. Shall we say four and six?”
”No, I will be generous. I'll do this. If you will take the risk of being accused of burglary by Vespasian, I happen to know there is some money in the right hand drawer of the table over there. I don't know how much. Fivepence, perhaps, but you shall have whatever it is.”
Renata walked with great dignity across the room and opened the drawer. A little smile hovered about her lips. She picked up a handful of gold and silver and sat down by him to count it.
”It looks an awful lot,” he remarked anxiously. ”Won't you let me off?
Vespasian is always complaining of my extravagance.”
”Sh----Sh----” she held up one finger, ”ten, eleven, twelve, and two and six, that's thirteen,--no, fourteen and sixpence.”
”Leave me the sixpence,” he urged plaintively, but she continued counting.
”Seven pounds, four s.h.i.+llings and sixpence. Count it yourself, Aymer.”
Aymer counted and gravely p.r.o.nounced her arithmetic to be correct.