No Wind of Blame

‘And the Bawtrys are coming too!’ said Ermyntrude, who had paid not the least attention to this speech. ‘That’ll make us ten, all told.’

‘I think Alan would like to come to the party,’ murmured Vicky.

Ermyntrude folded her lips for a moment. ‘Well, he’ll have to like,’ she said. ‘I don’t mean that I’ve got anything against him, nor his sister either, if it comes to that, but have Harold White here with the Derings and the Bawtrys I won’t, and that’s flat!’

‘Oh, I hate Mr White!’ agreed Vicky.

‘Well, ducky, I can’t ask Alan and Janet without their father, now can I? I mean, you know what he is, and this being a dinner-party, and him a sort of connection of Wally’s. It isn’t like asking the young people over to tennis, when he wouldn’t expect to be invited.’

‘That’s right!’ said Wally. ‘Crab poor old Harold! I thought it wouldn’t be long before you started on him. I’d like to know what harm he’s ever done you.’

‘I don’t like him,’ said Ermyntrude. ‘Some people might say he’s done me plenty of harm leading you into ways we won’t discuss at the breakfast-table, let alone planting himself down in the Dower House.’

‘You never made any bones about letting it to him, did you?’

‘No, I didn’t, not with you asking me to let him rent the place, and saying he was a relation of yours. But if I’d known what sort of an influence he was going to be on you, and no more related to you than the man in the moon—’

‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong, because he is related to me,’ interrupted Wally. ‘I forget just how it goes, but I know we’ve got the same great-great-grandfather. Or am I wrong? There may have been three greats, not that it matters.’

‘Ancestors,’ said Vicky.

Ermyntrude refused to follow a false trail she quite clearly perceived. ‘It’s no relationship at all to my way of thinking, and you know very well that isn’t what I’ve got against Harold White, however hard you may try to turn the subject.’

‘The Bawtrys are stuffy,’ said Vicky suddenly.

‘Well, they are a bit,’ confessed her mother. ‘But it’s something to get the best people to come just for a friendly dinner-party, and I don’t mind telling you, lovey, that they never have before.’

‘And the Derings are stuffy.’

‘Not Lady Dering. She’s a good sort, and always was, and she’s behaved to me more like a lady than a lot of others I could name.’

‘And Hugh Dering is stuffy,’ said Vicky obstinately. ‘It’s going to be a lousy party.’

‘Not with the Prince,’ said Ermyntrude.

‘If anyone wants to know what I think, which I don’t suppose they do,’ interpolated Wally, ‘this Prince of yours will just about put the finishing touch to it. However, it’s nothing to do with me, and all I say is, don’t expect me to entertain him!’

Ermyntrude looked a little perturbed. ‘But, Wally, you’ll have to help entertain him! Now, don’t be tiresome, there’s a dear! You know we arranged it all weeks ago, and honestly I know you’ll like Alexis. Besides, you won’t have to do much, except take him out shooting, like we said.’

Wally rose from the table, tucking the newspaper under his arm. ‘There you go again! If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times that I don’t like shooting. And now I come to think of it, I lent my gun to Harold, and he hasn’t returned it yet, so I can’t shoot even if I wanted to.’

This was too much, even for a woman of Ermyntrude’s kindly disposition. She said hotly: ‘Then you’ll tell Harold White to return it, Wally, and if you don’t, I will! The idea of your lending poor Geoffrey’s gun without so much as by your leave!’

‘I suppose I ought to have sat down with a planchette, or something,’ said Wally.

Ermyntrude flushed, and said in a tearful voice: ‘How dare you talk like that? Sometimes I think you don’t care how much you hurt my feelings!’

‘Oh, I do think you’re quite too brutal and awful!’ exclaimed Vicky.

‘All right, all right!’ Wally said, retreating to the door. ‘There’s no need for you to start! If a man can’t make a perfectly innocent remark without creating a scene – now, stop it, Ermy! There’s nothing for you to cry about. Anyone would think Harold was going to hurt the gun!’

‘Do get it back!’ said Vicky. ‘You’re upsetting mother simply dreadfully!’

‘Oh, all right!’ replied Wally, goaded. ‘Anything for a quiet life!’

As soon as he had left the room, Vicky abandoned the protective pose she had assumed, and went on eating her breakfast. Ermyntrude glanced apologetically at Mary, and said: ‘I’m sorry, Mary, but what with that White, and him being so tiresome, and then my poor first husband’s gun on top of everything, I just couldn’t help bursting out.’

‘No, he’s in one of his annoying moods,’ agreed Mary. ‘I shouldn’t worry, though. He’ll get over it.’