The Wonderful Visit · Chapter 34 (2/2)

“Then,” said Lady Hammergallow, throwing her head back and speaking with deliberate indignation, as she rustled forward, “if you cannot play with Mr. Wilmerdings I am afraid I cannot ask you to play again.” She made it sound like an ultimatum. Her glasses in her hand quivered violently with indignation. The Angel was now human enough to appreciate the fact that he was crushed.

“What is it?” said little Lucy Rustchuck in the further bay.

“He’s refused to play with old Wilmerdings,” said Tommy Rathbone-Slater. “What a lark! The old girl’s purple. She thinks heaps of that ass, Wilmerdings.”

“Perhaps, Mr. Wilmerdings, you will favour us with that delicious Polonaise of Chopin’s,” said Lady Hammergallow. Everybody else was hushed. The indignation of Lady Hammergallow inspired much the same silence as a coming earthquake or an eclipse. Mr. Wilmerdings perceived he would be doing a real social service to begin at once, and (be it entered to his credit now that his account draws near its settlement) he did.

“If a man pretend to practise an art,” said George Harringay, “he ought at least to have the conscience to study the elements of it. What do you.⁠ ⁠…”

“Oh! I think so too,” said the younger Miss Pirbright.

The Vicar felt that the heavens had fallen. He sat crumpled up in his chair, a shattered man. Lady Hammergallow sat down next to him without appearing to see him. She was breathing heavily, but her face was terribly calm. Everyone sat down. Was the Angel grossly ignorant or only grossly impertinent? The Angel was vaguely aware of some frightful offence, aware that in some mysterious way he had ceased to be the centre of the gathering. He saw reproachful despair in the Vicar’s eye. He drifted slowly towards the window in the recess and sat down on the little octagonal Moorish stool by the side of Mrs. Jehoram. And under the circumstances he appreciated at more than its proper value Mrs. Jehoram’s kindly smile. He put down the violin in the window seat.