Part 29 (1/2)

”But I can't wait. Mrs. Ford is down at the dress-maker's now. It'll be too late if I wait. What am I to do? It will spoil the whole thing if Mrs. Ford insists??”

Dr. O'Grady came in. He was whistling cheerfully, not ”Rule, Britannia,”

but a harmless Irish jig.

”Hullo!” he said. ”You here, Major. Good. And Father McCormack. There's nothing like punctuality. And Mrs. Gregg. How do you do, Mrs. Gregg?

Everything going on all right about Mary Ellen's costume?”

”Oh, no, it isn't. But I'm so glad you've come. Mrs. Ford??”

”Excuse me one moment, Mrs. Gregg,” said Dr. O'Grady. ”I just want to ask Father McCormack one question. Listen now, Father McCormack. Do you know this tune?”

He began to whistle ”Rule, Britannia.” When he was about half way through Mrs. Gregg interrupted him.

”I can't wait,” said Mrs. Gregg. ”I really can't. Mrs. Ford is at the dressmaker's and??”

”I'll attend to that in one minute, Mrs. Gregg. But I must get Father McCormack's opinion on this tune first. Doyle and Gallagher may arrive at any moment, and then I shan't be able to go into the question. Now Father McCormack, do you recognise the tune I whistled you?”

”I've heard it,” said Father McCormack, ”and to the best of my belief it was at a military tournament up in Dublin last year.”

”It's 'Rule, Britannia,'” said the Major. ”And if it's played in this town there'll be a row.”

”There might be,” said Father McCormack, ”if Thady Gallagher knows what tune it is.”

”He won't,” said Dr. O'Grady. ”You didn't know yourself, Father McCormack, and if you didn't I'm quite satisfied that Thady Gallagher won't. We can count on your keeping your mouth shut, Major, I suppose.

Now, Mrs. Gregg, what has Mrs. Ford been doing?”

”She says,” said Mrs. Gregg, ”that Mary Ellen is to wear a plain dark grey tweed dress, and I had it all planned out??”

”White muslin,” said Dr. O'Grady, ”with a silk slip. I remember.”

”It'd look perfectly sweet,” said Mrs. Gregg, ”and I took her to the dressmaker yesterday evening just as you told me. I had the whole thing arranged. She was to have a blue sash.”

”I was,” said Mary Ellen, who was still standing beside the stuffed fox.

”And Mrs. Ford agreed at the time,” said Mrs. Gregg, ”and now I've just got a note from her saying that a dark grey tweed would be much more suitable because it would be useful afterwards.”

”It seems to me,” said Dr. O'Grady, ”that you haven't managed this business quite as tactfully as I expected you would.”

”Mrs. Ford said she was going straight to the dress-maker to order the grey tweed. She's there now, most likely.”

Mrs. Gregg's voice had a break in it. It seemed to Dr. O'Grady that she was on the verge of tears. He turned to Mary Ellen.

”Which would you rather have, Mary Ellen, a white muslin frock, or a grey tweed, one that would be useful to you afterwards? Don't be in a hurry to decide. Think it well over.”

Mary Ellen seemed very well inclined to take this advice. She stood quite silent with one of her fingers pressed against the corner of her mouth. She was thinking deeply.

”I can't bear to have everything I settled upset by that woman,” said Mrs. Gregg. ”I wish you'd never made me ask her to help. I wish I'd never??”

”We had to keep her in a good temper,” said Dr. O'Grady.

”You'll not be able to do that,” said the Major, ”n.o.body could.”