Part 32 (1/2)
”Certainly you do! A typical product--with just as much right to a place in English religion as Meynell--and no more.”
”Hugh!--you must behave very nicely to the Bishop to-night.”
”I should think I must!--considering the _ominum gatherum_ you have asked to meet him. I really do not think you ought to have asked Meynell.”
”There we must agree to differ,” said Rose firmly. ”Social relations in this country must be maintained--in spite of politics--in spite of religion--in spite of everything.”
”That's all very well--but if you mix people too violently, you make them uncomfortable.”
”My dear Hugh!--how many drawing-rooms are there?” His wife waved a vague hand toward the folding doors on her right, implying the suite of Georgian rooms that stretched away beyond them; ”one for every _nuance_ if it comes to that. If they positively won't mix I shall have to segregate them. But they will mix.” Then she fell into a reverie for a moment, adding at the end of it--”I must keep one drawing-room for the Rector and Mr. Norham--”
”That I understand is what we're giving the party for. Intriguer!”
Rose threw him a cool glance.
”You may continue to play Gallio if you like. _I_ am now a partisan.”
”So I perceive. And you hope to turn Norham into one.”
Rose nodded. Mr. Norham was the Home Secretary, the most important member in a Cabinet headed by a Prime Minister in rapidly failing health; to whose place, either by death or retirement it was generally expected that Edward Norham would succeed.
”Well, darling, I shall watch your manoeuvres with interest,” said Flaxman, rising and gathering up his letters--”and, _longo intervallo_, I shall humbly do my best to a.s.sist them. Are Catherine and Mary coming?”
”Mary certainly--and, I think, Catharine. The Fox-Wiltons of course, and that mad creature Hester, who goes to Paris in a few days--and Alice Puttenham. How that sister of hers bullies her--horrid little woman! _And_ Mr. Barron!”--Flaxman made an exclamation--”and the deaf daughter--and the nice elder son--and the unpresentable younger one--in fact the whole menagerie.”
Flaxman shrugged his shoulders.
”A few others, I hope, to act as buffers.”
”Heaps!” said Rose. ”I have asked half the neighbourhood--our first big party. And as for the weekenders, you chose them yourself.” She ran through the list, while Flaxman vainly protested that he had never in their joint existence been allowed to do anything of the kind. ”But to-night you're not to take any notice of them at all. Neighbours first!
Plenty of time for you to amuse yourself to-morrow. What time does Mr.
Barron come?”
”In ten minutes!” said Flaxman, hastily departing, only, however, to be followed into his study by Rose, who breathed into his ear--
”And if you see Mary and Mr. Meynell colloguing--play up!”
Flaxman turned round with a start.
”I say!--is there really anything in that?”
Rose, sitting on the arm of his chair, did her best to bring him up to date. Yes--from her observation of the two--she was certain there was a good deal in it.
”And Catharine?”
Rose's eyebrows expressed the uncertainty of the situation.
”But such an odd thing happened last week! You remember the day of the accident--and the Church Council that was put off?”