Chapter 25 - Page 2

"You'll have to be dressed up. Do you still persist?"

"I'm ready to suffer all indignities."

"Good!" said Anne; and turning to Gombauld, "You must be our
lightning artist," she said. "'Your portrait for a shilling in
five minutes.'"

"It's a pity I'm not Ivor," said Gombauld, with a laugh. "I
could throw in a picture of their Auras for an extra sixpence."

Mary flushed. "Nothing is to be gained," she said severely, "by
speaking with levity of serious subjects. And, after all,
whatever your personal views may be, psychical research is a
perfectly serious subject."

"And what about Denis?"

Denis made a deprecating gesture. "I have no accomplishments,"
he said, "I'll just be one of those men who wear a thing in their
buttonholes and go about telling people which is the way to tea
and not to walk on the grass."

"No, no," said Anne. "That won't do. You must do something more
than that."

"But what? All the good jobs are taken, and I can do nothing but
lisp in numbers."

"Well, then, you must lisp," concluded Anne. "You must write a
poem for the occasion--an 'Ode on Bank Holiday.' We'll print it
on Uncle Henry's press and sell it at twopence a copy."

"Sixpence," Denis protested. "It'll be worth sixpence."

Anne shook her head. "Twopence," she repeated firmly. "Nobody
will pay more than twopence."

"And now there's Jenny," said Mr Wimbush. "Jenny," he said,
raising his voice, "what will you do?"

Denis thought of suggesting that she might draw caricatures at
sixpence an execution, but decided it would be wiser to go on
feigning ignorance of her talent. His mind reverted to the red
notebook. Could it really be true that he looked like that?

"What will I do," Jenny echoed, "what will I do?" She frowned
thoughtfully for a moment; then her face brightened and she
smiled. "When I was young," she said, "I learnt to play the
drums."

"The drums?"

Jenny nodded, and, in proof of her assertion, agitated her knife
and fork, like a pair of drumsticks, over her plate. "If there's
any opportunity of playing the drums..." she began.

"But of course," said Anne, "there's any amount of opportunity.
We'll put you down definitely for the drums. That's the lot,"
she added.

"And a very good lot too," said Gombauld. "I look forward to my
Bank Holiday. It ought to be gay."

"It ought indeed," Mr Scogan assented. "But you may rest assured
that it won't be. No holiday is ever anything but a
disappointment."

"Come, come," protested Gombauld. "My holiday at Crome isn't
being a disappointment."

"Isn't it?" Anne turned an ingenuous mask towards him.

"No, it isn't," he answered.