Busman’s Honeymoon Read Free Page B

and I gave her the photographs and asked what plans they had, if they had got so far. She said P. didn’t know when he’d be back, but she thought she’d better finish her present book quickly, so as to be ready when the time came and have enough money for clothes. Asked if I could tell her the right tailor—shows sense, and would pay for really inspired dressing, but must be careful what I advise, as find I have no idea what people make by writing books. Ignorant and stupid of me—so important not to hurt her pride.... Altogether most reassuring evening. Telephoned long enthusiastic wire to Peter before bed. Hope Rome is not too stuffy and hot, as heat does not suit him.
     
       24 May.— Harriet to tea. Helen came in—very rude and tiresome when I introduced Harriet, Said, ‘Oh, really!’ and ‘Where is Peter? Run off abroad again? How absurd and unaccountable he is!’ Went on to talk Town and County solidly, saying every so often, ‘Do you know the So-and-so’s, Miss Vane? No? They’re very old friends of Peter’s.’ ‘Do you hunt, Miss Vane? No? What a pity! I do hope Peter doesn’t mean to give it up. It does him good to get out.’ Harriet very sensibly said ‘No’ and ‘Certainly’ to everything, without any explanations or apologies, which are always so dangerous (dear Disraeli!). I asked Harriet how the book was getting on and if Peter’s suggestions had helped. Helen said, ‘Oh, yes, you write, don’t you?’ as if she’d never heard of her, and asked what the title was, so that she could get it from the library. Harriet said, quite gravely, ‘That is very kind of you, but do let me send you one—I am allowed six free copies, you know.’ First sign of temper, but I don’t blame her. Apologised for Helen after she’d gone, and said I was glad my second son was marrying for love. Fear my vocabulary remains hopelessly old-fashioned in spite of carefully chosen reading. (Must remember to ask Franklin what I have done with The Stars Look Down. )
     
       1 June.— Letter from Peter, about taking the Belchesters’ house in Audley Square from Michaelmas and furnishing it. H., thank Heaven, ready to prefer eighteenth-century elegance to chromium tubes. H. alarmed by size of house, but relieved she is not called upon to ‘make a home’ for Peter. I explained it was his business to make the home and take his bride to it—privilege now apparently confined to aristocracy and clergymen, who can’t choose their vicarages, poor dears, usually much too big for them. H. pointed out that Royal brides always seemed to be expected to run about choosing cretonnes, but I said this was duty they owed to penny papers which like domestic women—Peter’s wife fortunately without duties. Must see about housekeeper for them someone capable—Peter insistent wife’s work must not be interrupted by uproars in servants’ hall.
     
       5 June.— Sudden outburst of family feeling in most tiresome form. Gerald first—worried of course by Helen—to ask if girl is presentable and has she got modern ideas, meaning children of course, that is to say not wanting children. Told Gerald to mind his own business, which is Saint-George. Next Mary, to say Small Peter sickening for chicken-pox and will this girl really look after Peter? Told her, Peter perfectly capable of looking after himself, and probably not wanting wife with head stuffed with chickenpox and best way to boil fish. Found beautiful Chippendale mirror and set tapestry chairs at Harrison’s.
     
       25 June.— Love’s dream troubled by solemn interview with Murbles about Settlements—appalling long document provided for every conceivable and inconceivable situation and opening up ramifications into everybody’s death and remarriage, ‘covered’, as Murbles observes, ‘by THE WILL’ (in capitals). Had not realised Peter was doing so well out of the London property. H. more and more uncomfortable at every clause. Rescued her in depressed