Heavenknowswhyitis.Foronething,thoughtJacob,they'reasuglyassin.
Nowtherewasascrapingandmurmuring.HecaughtTimmyDurrant'seyelookedverysternlyathimandthen,verysolemnly,winked.
"Waverley,"thevillaontheroadtoGirtonwascalled,notthatMr.PlumeradmiredScottorwouldhavechosenanynameatall,butnamesareusefulwhenyouhavetoentertainundergraduates,andastheysatwaitingforthefourthundergraduate,onSundayatlunch-time,therewastalkofnamesupongates.
"Howtiresome,"Mrs.Plumerinterruptedimpulsively."DoesanybodyknowMr.Flanders?"
Mr.Durrantknewhimandthereforeblushedslightly,andsaid,awkwardly,somethingaboutbeingsure—lookingatMr.Plumerandhitchingtherightlegofhistrouserashespoke.Mr.Plumergotupandstoodinfrontofthefireplace.Mrs.Plumerlaughedlikeastraightforwardfriendlyfellow.Inshort,anythingmorehorriblethanthescene,thesetting,theprospect,eventheMaygardenbeingafflictedwithchillsterilityandacloudchoosingthatmomenttocrossthesun,cannotbeimagined.Therewasthegarden,ofcourse.Everyoneatthesamemomentlookedatit.Owingtothecloud,theleavesruffledgrey,andthesparrows—thereweretwosparrows.
"Ithink,"saidMrs.Plumer,takingadvantageofthemomentaryrespite,whiletheyoungmenstaredatthegarden,tolookatherhusband,andhe,notacceptingfullresponsibilityfortheact,neverthelesstouchedthebell.
Therecanbenoexcuseforthisoutrageupononehourofhumanlife,savethereflectionwhichoccurredtoMr.Plumerashecarvedthemutton,thatifnodonevergavealuncheonparty,ifSundayafterSundaypassed,ifmenwentdown,becamelawyers,doctors,membersofParliament,businessmen—ifnodonevergavealuncheonparty—
"Now,doeslambmakethemintsauce,ormintsaucemakethelamb?"heaskedtheyoungmannexthim,tobreakasilencewhichhadalreadylastedfiveminutesandahalf.
"Idon'tknow,sir,"saidtheyoungman,blushingveryvividly.
AtthismomentincameMr.Flanders.Hehadmistakenthetime.
Now,thoughtheyhadfinishedtheirmeat,Mrs.Plumertookasecondhelpingofcabbage.Jacobdetermined,ofcourse,thathewouldeathismeatinthetimeittookhertofinishhercabbage,lookingonceortwicetomeasurehisspeed—onlyhewasinfernallyhungry.Seeingthis,Mrs.PlumersaidthatshewassureMr.Flanderswouldnotmind—andthetartwasbroughtin.Noddinginapeculiarway,shedirectedthemaidtogiveMr.Flandersasecondhelpingofmutton.Sheglancedatthemutton.Notmuchofthelegwouldbeleftforluncheon.
Itwasnoneofherfault—sincehowcouldshecontrolherfatherbegettingherfortyyearsagointhesuburbsofManchester?andoncebegotten,howcouldshedootherthangrowupcheese-paring,ambitious,withaninstinctivelyaccuratenotionoftherungsoftheladderandanant-likeassiduityinpushingGeorgePlumeraheadofhertothetopoftheladder?Whatwasatthetopoftheladder?AsensethatalltherungswerebeneathoneapparentlysincebythetimethatGeorgePlumerbecameProfessorofPhysics,orwhateveritmightbe,Mrs.Plumercouldonlybeinaconditiontoclingtighttohereminence,peerdownattheground,a