Some Do Not . . ._ A Novel - Ford Madox Ford [100]
It had been in one of the castles at Bamborough that he and Sylvia had been staying with the Sandbachs. Then...a name had come into his mind spontaneously!...Two names!...It was, perhaps, the turn of the tide! For the first time...To be marked with a red stone...after this: some names, sometimes, on the tip of the tongue, might come over! He had, however, to get on...
The Sandbachs, then, and he and Sylvia...others too...had been in Bamborough since mid-July: Eton and Harrow at Lord's, waiting for the real house parties that would come with the 12th...He repeated these names and dates to himself for the personal satisfaction of knowing that, amongst the repairs effected in his mind, these two remained: Eton and Harrow, the end of the London season: 12th of August, grouse shooting begins...It was pitiful...
When General Campion had come up to rejoin his sister he, Tietjens, had stopped only two days. The coolness between the two of them remained; it was the first time they had met, except in Court, after the accident...For Mrs Wannop, with grim determination, had sued the General for the loss of her horse. It had lived all right--but it was only fit to draw a lawn-mower for cricket pitches...Mrs Wannop, then, had gone bald-headed for the General, partly because she wanted the money, partly because she wanted a public reason for breaking with the Sandbachs. The General had been equally obstinate and had undoubtedly perjured himself in Court: not the best, not the most honourable, the most benevolent man in the world would not turn oppressor of the widow and orphan when his efficiency as a chauffeur was impugned or the fact brought to light that at a very dangerous turning he hadn't sounded his horn. Tietjens had sworn that he hadn't: the General that he had. There could not be any question of doubt, for the horn was a beastly thing that made a prolonged noise like that of a terrified peacock...So Tietjens had not, till the end of that July, met the General again. It had been quite a proper thing for gentlemen to quarrel over and was quite convenient, though it had cost the General fifty pounds for the horse and, of course, a good bit over for costs. Lady Claudine had refused to interfere in the matter: she was privately of opinion that the General hadn't sounded his horn, but the General was both a passionately devoted and explosive brother. She had remained closely intimate with Sylvia, mildly cordial with Tietjens and had continued to ask the Wannops to such of her garden parties as the General did not attend. She was also very friendly with Mrs Duchemin.
Tietjens and the General had met with the restrained cordiality of English gentlemen who had some years before accused each other of perjury in a motor accident. On the second morning a violent quarrel had broken out between them on the subject of whether the General had or hadn't sounded his horn. The General had ended up by shouting...really shouting:
'By God! If I ever get you under my command...'
Tietjens remembered that he had quoted and given the number of a succinct paragraph in King's Regs. dealing with the fate of general or higher field officers who gave their subordinates bad confidential reports because of private quarrels. The General had exploded into noise that ended in laughter.
'What a rag-bag of a mind you have, Chrissie!' he said. 'What's King's Regs. to you? And how do you know it's paragraph 66 or whatever you say it is? I don't.' He added more seriously: