Loving - Henry Green [84]
an oil lamp between its prongs. 'The damp has settled on the metal part which is all peeling. In spite of the fire I have kept up on account of the Cuyps. Isn't that provoking? And of course it's a museum piece. Or that's what they say when they come down. They simply exclaim out loud when they see this room.' But her daughter-in-law did not look. 'It's all French you know,' Mrs Tennant continued, 'they say it came from France, which is why I try to impress it on the servants that they really must be careful. There'll be so little left when this war's finished. But Raunce is hopeless. D'you know what he said to me?' 'No?' 'Well Violet I'd asked him to have a word with O'Conor. You know how extremely difficult that man is. Then it came out,' and Mrs Jack drew her breath sharp, 'or not everything, just a bit probably. You see he said O'Conor had locked the peacocks up in their quarters as he termed it. Now that's very unsatisfactory of course. After all they are my peacocks as I pointed out to Raunce. I have a right to see them I should hope. They're a part of the decoration of the place. But he told me he thought O'Conor was afraid of something or other.' 'How ridiculous,' Mrs Jack exclaimed. She turned to face her mother-in-law with a look which appeared stiff with apprehension. But if Mrs Tennant noticed this she gave no sign. 'Exactly,' she said. 'Frightened of what I'd like to know? I put it to Raunce. But he couldn't or wouldn't say.' 'Which is just like the man,' the younger woman interrupted. 'Always hinting.' 'But that wasn't the lie,' Mrs Tennant said soft. 'When it came it was much more direct than that. You see as I said before I asked him to speak to O'Conor. D'you know what he answered? Sheer impertinence really. He had the cheek to stand where you are now and tell me that it was no use his going to interrogate the lampman, can't you hear him, because he couldn't understand a word he said.' 'I don't quite see,' Mrs Jack put in livelier. 'I can't catch what he says myself.' 'No more can I. That's why I wanted someone else to go. But my dear it's not for us to understand O'Conor,' Mrs Tennant explained as she replaced into its niche a fly-whisk carved out of a block of sandalwood, the handle enamelled with a reddish silver. 'We don't have to live with the servants. Not yet. It's they who condescend to stay with us nowadays. No but you're not telling me that they pass all their huge meals in utter silence. He eats with them you know. Of course Raunce was lying. He understands perfectly what O'Conor says. There's something behind all this Violet. It's detestable.' 'Raunce told you that O'Conor shut the peacocks up? But that's too extraordinary,' Mrs Jack remarked in a confident voice. She was tracing patterns on the window-pane with a purple finger nail. 'I shall get to the bottom of it,' Mrs Tennant announced. For an instant she sent a grim smile at her daughter-in-law's back. 'I shall bide my time though,' she said, then quietly left that chamber the walls of which were hung with blue silk. Mrs Jack swung round but the room was empty. That night the servants all sat down to supper together. Mrs Welch had asked for and been granted leave to stay in Dublin overnight to consult a doctor. Her Albert had been sent to bed. By this time he was probably running naked on the steeply sloping roofs high up. Mrs Jack now looked after her children who ate with their mother and the grandparent while Miss Swift died inch by inch in the bedroom off the nursery. And because Miss Burch was still indisposed Edith as though by right took this woman's place at table. 'Well what are we waiting for?' she asked quite natural in Agatha's manner. 'Bert's just bringing in the cold joint,' Mary replied. 'Jane's lending a hand. My,' she went on, 'this certainly is nice for us girls to have company. It's a thought we both of us appreciate Mr Raunce to be invited to your supper.' 'You're welcome,' the man replied as he sharpened his carving knife against a fork. He spoke moodily. 'Come on Bert do,' Edith remarked keen to the lad when, followed