Just then there was a ring at the front door, and downstairs Maurice rushed to admit the visitors. Presently he came up again.
"d.a.m.ned kids," he grumbled.
"You don"t mean to say they fetched you all that way for nothing?"
exclaimed Jenny.
"It"s good for him," Ronnie Walker a.s.serted.
"Yes, but what a dreadful thing," said Jenny. "Fancy tearing all that way for nothing. I should go mad."
Another ring punctuated Jenny"s indignation. Everybody to be forewarned ran to the window.
"It is them this time. Gladys! Elsie!" she called. Then in critical commentary: "What a dreadful hat Elsie"s got on."
"She bought it yesterday.
"I don"t think," said Jenny. "Or if she did, it must have lain in the window and got forgotten since the year before last. Besides, what a shocking color. It"s like anchovy paste."
Madge Wilson and Maudie Chapman now appeared from round a corner, and, since Maurice was already on his way downstairs, Jenny ran after him to prevent a double journey.
"Wait, wait," she called after him. "Madge and Maudie are coming, too."
He stopped and waved to her.
"Jenny--quick, one kiss--over the banisters. Do."
"Do, do, do, I want you to," she mocked in quotation. But all the same she kissed him.
"I absolutely adore you," he whispered. "Do you love me as much to-day as you did yesterday?"
"Oh, I couldn"t answer all that in my head. I should have to put it down on paper."
"No, don"t tease. Do you? Do you?"
"Of course, baby," she a.s.sured him.
"Angel!" he shouted, and rushed downstairs two steps at a time to admit the bunch of guests on his doorstep.
In a minute or two the studio was full of introductions, in the middle of which Maudie Chapman, a jolly girl with a big nose and a loud voice, explained the adventures of Madge and herself in arriving at 422 Grosvenor Road.
"Where we got to, my dear, well, that wants knowing. I was saying, when we got off the tram at Vauxhall Bridge, "Wherever is this man"s house?"
and Madge she was giggling and then I asked the time, and it was only half-past three, and I said, "Whatever shall we do, we"re most shocking early." So we got inside a big building near here--full of pictures and a pond with gold-fish. I thought at first it was an aquarium, and then we saw some statues and I thought it was a Catholic church."
"Isn"t she a lad?" said Jenny, admiring the spirited piece of narrative.
"Well, we had a good look at the pictures, _which_ we didn"t think much of, and I slipped on the floor and burnt my hand on a sort of grating, and then we couldn"t find the way out. We _couldn"t_ find the way out.
We got upstairs somewhere, and I called out, "Management," and a fellow with his hair nailed down and spectacles, said: "Are you looking for the Watts?" and I said, "No, we"re looking for the What Ho"s!" and he said, "You"ve made a mistake, miss; they"re in the National Gallery,"
and Madge, you know what a shocking giggler she is, she burst out laughing and I didn"t know where to look. So I said, "Can you tell me where Grosvenor Road is?" and he looked very annoyed and walked off."
"Oh, but it really was difficult to find the way out," Madge corroborated.
"And what did you think of the pictures?" asked Ronnie Walker, who was a painter himself and still young enough to be interested in a question"s answer.
"Oh, don"t ask _me_," said Maudie.
"Nor me," said Madge.
"They never looked at no pictures," said Jenny. "I bet you they was all the time trying to get off with the keeper. I know Madge and Maudie."
Castleton suddenly laughed very loudly.
"What"s Fuz laughing at?" asked Jenny.
"I was thinking of Madge and Maudie getting off with the Curator of the Tate Gallery. It struck me as funny. I apologize."
Jenny looked at him suspiciously. Castleton, however, large, wide-faced and honest, could not be malicious.
"Well, they do. They did at the Zoo once. Only he got annoyed when they asked him if he slept in a cage."
At this point the bell interrupted reminiscence.
"That must be Lilli Vergoe," said Jenny. "I"ll go down and let her in.
She"ll feel uncomfortable walking into a crowd by herself."
"I"ll come as well," Maurice volunteered.
The two of them took almost longer to descend than to come up, so much discussion was there of the immortality of affection, so much weighing up of comparative emotion. When they reached the studio with Lilli, the party had settled down into various groups of conversation.
"What about tea?" said the host. "Jenny shall pour out."
"But what a terrible teapot," cried the latter when she had accepted the task. "It"s like my sister"s watering-can. What"s the matter with it?"
"Age," said Castleton solemnly. "It"s old Lowestoft. If you look inside, you"ll see "A Present from Lowestoft.""
"Shut up," said Maurice, "and pa.s.s the Chelsea buns."
"A bit of old Chelsea," murmured Castleton.
"Shut up making rotten jokes," said Cunningham.
"You must excuse him," said Maurice. "He isn"t funny, but he"s very nice. Good Lord!" he went on. "I"ve never wished Jenny "many happy returns of the day.""
"Yes, it"s a pity you waited till after she"s seen those buns," said Castleton. "However!"
"And the cake," said Maurice, diving into the cupboard.
"Don"t look so sad," Castleton whispered to the guest of honor. "It isn"t really a tombstone."