They knocked at the door, and Cyril
followed his aunts into grandfather’s hot, sweetish
room.
“Come on,” said Grandfather
Pinner. “Don’t hang about.
What is it? What’ve you been up to?”
He was sitting in front of a roaring
fire, clasping his stick. He had a thick rug
over his knees. On his lap there lay a beautiful
pale yellow silk handkerchief.
“It’s Cyril, father,”
said Josephine shyly. And she took Cyril’s
hand and led him forward.
“Good afternoon, grandfather,”
said Cyril, trying to take his hand out of Aunt Josephine’s.
Grandfather Pinner shot his eyes at Cyril in the way
he was famous for. Where was Auntie Con?
She stood on the other side of Aunt Josephine; her
long arms hung down in front of her; her hands were
clasped. She never took her eyes off grandfather.
“Well,” said Grandfather
Pinner, beginning to thump, “what have you got
to tell me?”
What had he, what had he got to tell
him? Cyril felt himself smiling like a perfect
imbecile. The room was stifling, too.
But Aunt Josephine came to his rescue.
She cried brightly, “Cyril says his father
is still very fond of meringues, father dear.”
“Eh?” said Grandfather
Pinner, curving his hand like a purple meringue-shell
over one ear.
Josephine repeated, “Cyril says
his father is still very fond of meringues.”
“Can’t hear,” said
old Colonel Pinner. And he waved Josephine away
with his stick, then pointed with his stick to Cyril.
“Tell me what she’s trying to say,”
he said.
(My God!) “Must I?” said
Cyril, blushing and staring at Aunt Josephine.
“Do, dear,” she smiled. “It
will please him so much.”
“Come on, out with it!”
cried Colonel Pinner testily, beginning to thump again.
And Cyril leaned forward and yelled,
“Father’s still very fond of meringues.”
At that Grandfather Pinner jumped
as though he had been shot.
“Don’t shout!” he
cried. “What’s the matter with the
boy? Meringues! What about ’em?”
“Oh, Aunt Josephine, must we
go on?” groaned Cyril desperately.
“It’s quite all right,
dear boy,” said Aunt Josephine, as though he
and she were at the dentist’s together.
“He’ll understand in a minute.”
And she whispered to Cyril, “He’s getting
a bit deaf, you know.” Then she leaned
forward and really bawled at Grandfather Pinner, “Cyril
only wanted to tell you, father dear, that his father
is still very fond of meringues.”
Colonel Pinner heard that time, heard
and brooded, looking Cyril up and down.
“What an esstrordinary thing!”
said old Grandfather Pinner. “What an
esstrordinary thing to come all this way here to tell
me!”
And Cyril felt it was.
“Yes, I shall send Cyril the watch,” said
Josephine.
“That would be very nice,”
said Constantia. “I seem to remember last
time he came there was some little trouble about the
time.”