The Garden Party and Other Stories

ed it was only their bodies that lay down and rested; their minds went on, thinking

ides, her feet just overlapping each other, the

uld mind if we gave his

ne. “Why ever the porter? Wha

at the cemetery that he only had a bowler.” She paused. “I thought then how very much he’d

felt in the least like giggling. It must have been habit. Years ago, when they had stayed awake at night talking, their beds had simply heaved. And now the porter’s head, disappearing, popp

ide tomorro

noticed nothi

t to have our dressin

most shriek

sn’t seem quite sincere, in a way, to wear black out of door

es such a twitch that both her feet became uncovered, and s

stantia. “And the pos

antia’s favourite indefinite green ones which went with hers. Black! Two black dressing-g

’s absolutely nec

papers with the notice in them tomorrow to catch the Cey

ty-th

handkerchief, and on some of them even to soak up a very light-blue tear with an edge of blotting-paper. Strange! She couldn’t have put it on — but

ugh stamps?” came

osephine crossly. “What’s th

dering,” said C

e came a little rus

” said Co

cause there aren’t any

now there aren’t,

ed she’d left a tiny piece of biscuit on the dressing-table. It

ey manage to live at

emanded

more loudly than s

sense, Con!” she said. “What have mi

Constantia. She shut her

olded her arms so that her fists came under her ea

I

ey had asked her. It was Josephine’s idea. On the morning — well, on the last morning, when the doctor had gone, Josephine ha

e,” said

, ‘My sister and I would be very pleased, after all you’ve done for us, Nurse Andrews, if you

rdly expect to be pai

ows,” said Jo

wn meals at the proper times, whereas if they’d been alone they could just have asked Kate if she wouldn’t have

she had on her plate, and then, at the last mouthful, absent-mindedly — of course it wasn’t absent-mindedly — taking another helping. Josephine got very red when this happened, and she fastened her small, bead-like eyes on the tablecloth

It was a silvah Cupid balanced on the — on the bordah of a glass dish, holding a tayny fork. And when you w

But “I think those things are ve

ough her eyeglasses. “No one, surely, would

ephine. She couldn’t t

the old tabbies wanted now. She snatched away their plates of mock

Kate,” said Jo

ifted the lid of the jam-pot, saw it was e

se Andrews a moment la

Josephine. She bit her lip

s. “We can’t disturb Kat

nstantia in despair went back to her camels. Josephine frowned heavily — concentrated. If it hadn’t been for

de. There’s some marmalade i

was like a spoon tinkling against a medicine-g

I

e Nurse Andrews had sat beside his bed the whole time, holding his wrist and pretending to look at her watch. It couldn’t have been necessary. It was so tactless, too. Supposing father had wanted to say something — something private to them. Not that he had. Oh, far from it! He lay there, purple, a dark, angry purple in the face, and never even l

V

them when Mr. Farolles, of St. J

re the first words he said as he glided t

h hung their heads. Both of them felt cer

it down?” sa

at-tails and began to lower himself into father’s arm-chair, but just as

clasped her hands; C

ng to be helpful. I want to be helpful to you both, if you will let me. These are the times,”

Mr. Farolles,” said Jo

ard. “And if either of you would like a little Communion, either or both of you, here and now, you

stantia, and Mr. Farolles could not possibly lean over it with the chalice. And Kate would be sure to come bursting in and interrupt them, thought Josephine. And supposin

by your good Kate if you would car

you very much!”

took his black straw h

arrange that — as your dear father’s old frien

d Constantia

aid Josephine firmly, “and not too expen

hine were buying a nightgown. But, of course, Josephine didn’t say

r. Farolles soothingly. “I will ask him to come and se

bound to find out sooner or later. He always did. “Buried. You two girls had me buried!” She heard his stick thumping. Oh, what would they say? What possible excuse could they make? It sounded such an appallingly heartless thing to do. Such a wicked advantage to take of a person because he happened to be helpless at the moment. The other people seemed to

“And do you expect me to pay for

phine aloud, “we should

all that blackness, said in a fri

osephine, breaking down and crying into her

ringly. “We couldn’t have kept him, Jug — we couldn’t have

nose; the cab was

e tried to, just for a time at least. To make perfectly sure. One thing’s certain”

I

m to go through his things. They had discussed it quite calmly. It was even down on Josephine’s list of things to be don

e you rea

g — when

we’d better

orning, whatever happened. And now they were going to open the door without knocking e

st,” she gasped,

ad said on those occasions, “No, Jug

o for the world — what she kept for her very last weapon, “But you’re the talle

the doorhandle and doing her best to tu

new that if it was it was holding itself tight shut; Constantia felt that, like the doors in dreams, it hadn’t any handle at all. It was the coldness which made it so awful. Or the whiteness — which? Everything was covered. The blinds were down, a cloth hung over the mirror, a sheet hid the bed;

up a blind,” said

a good idea,” wh

ew after, rolling round the blind-stick, and the little tassel t

think we might put it off for

that she knew for certain that Constantia was terrified. “I

as whispering,” wh

said Josephine, raising her voice almost

said poor Connie. “At a

She took a wide swerve over to the chest of drawer

eeled round and leaned with her

Jug —

to Constantia that father was in the chest of drawers? He was in the top drawer with his handkerchiefs and neckties, or in the next with his

at Constantia, just as she used to in

en,” she ne

tly. “It’s much better not to. Don’t let’s op

so weak,” said Josep

ocked writing-table — so safe — to the huge glittering wardrobe, and she began to breathe in a queer, panting away. “Why shouldn’t we

wardrobe, turned the key, and took it out of the lock. Took it out of the lock and held it up to Josephine, showing Josephine

the contrary, she would have thought it the only suitable thing to happen. But nothing happened. Only the room seem

s smile, and Josephine followed just as she had that last

I

re back in the dining-room. They sat dow

osephine, “until I’ve had something. Do you thi

ntia carefully. She was quite normal again. “I won

wn into a chair. “Tell her, just two

?” said Constantia, as though Kate might v

. She can pour it direct out of the kettle,” cried Jo

d her small red hands round the cup; Constantia sat up and blew

Benny,” sai

mentioned Constantia immedi

of father’s, of course. But it’s so dif

nstuck so on the voyag

e sharply. “You know ther

ut there was something blind and tireless about Constantia’s tall, thin fellow, which made him, she decided, a very unpleasant person indeed . . . On the veranda, dressed all in white and wearing a cork helmet, stood Benny.

d be the most suitable

ked up; she se

trust a gold wa

en thought for a moment of hiding the watch in a narrow cardboard corset-box that she’d kept by her for a long time, waiting for it to come in for something. It was such beautiful, firm cardboard. But, no,

d Constantia, who was still thinking of the native love of jewellery. “At l

I

and a gold watch meant so much to a young man. Benny, in all probability, had quite got out of the habit of watches; men so seldom wore waistcoats in those hot climates. Whereas Cyril in London wore them f

ic little note had been! Of course they qu

such a point, having

t so,” said Constantia, not

s coming to tea with his aunties. Cyr

e Con and I bought them at Buszard’s this morning. We know what

her winter gloves or the soling and heeling of Constantia’s on

simply can’t. I’ve only

four,” cried Josephine. Constantia sat wi

hanging about till . . . there was only time to get lunch and to come on here. And h

of all days. But still he c

sephine. “These meringues were bought specially for you. You

Cyril ardently. “Do you mind

y; but we mustn’t le

ues?” asked Auntie Con gently. She winced fa

know, Auntie Con,”

hey both

phine. “Don’t know a thing like t

aid Auntie

d, “it’s such a long time since —” He faltered.

,” said

tie Con

bit,” he cried. “Wait a bit, Aunt

beginning to brighten.

have forgotten? Yes, Aunt Josephine, you’re perfectly

hine went scarlet with pleasure;

nd see father,” said Josephine.

d heartily. He got up from his chai

to meet a man at — at Paddington just after five. I’m af

you to stay very long

up her mind if it was fast or slow. It was one or the othe

. “Aren’t you coming

sephine, “we shall a

X

yril followed his aunts into gr

nner. “Don’t hang about. What

is stick. He had a thick rug over his knees. On his l

ephine shyly. And she took Cyr

hot his eyes at Cyril in the way he was famous for. Where was Auntie Con? She stood on the other side of Aunt Jo

ner, beginning to thump, “wh

? Cyril felt himself smiling like a perf

cried brightly, “Cyril says his father is

curving his hand like a purpl

l says his father is stil

ephine away with his stick, then pointed with his stick

d Cyril, blushing and s

miled. “It will p

ied Colonel Pinner testily

and yelled, “Father’s sti

Pinner jumped as tho

at’s the matter with the boy

must we go on?” groan

tand in a minute.” And she whispered to Cyril, “He’s getting a bit deaf, you know.” Then she leaned forward and really ba

time, heard and brooded,

andfather Pinner. “What an esstrordinary t

il felt

d Cyril the watch

. “I seem to remember last time he came th

h the door in her usual fashion, as though sh

led?” asked t

antia were quite bewildered for the

e?” asked Josephine, tryin

a loud sni

o understand, Kate? There are a great many things in this world you know, which are fried or boiled.”

n the other hand, of course, boiled fish is very nice. I think I

bounced back, leaving their door open

pale hair. She got up. She said in a very lofty, imposing way, “Do you mind following me in

wing-room they retired when

ery grand. She might have been receiving Constantia for the first time. And Co

sephine, bending forward, “whe

uestion,” agre

phine firmly, “we must com

ght begin going over all the other times, but s

tia looked up quickly. “I mean,” went on Josephine, “we’re not dependent on

stantia. “Father certainly doesn’t w

harply, “You’re not

” Constantia

“What it comes to is, if we did”— and this she barely breathed, glancing at the d

p smiling. The idea was so exciting. She clas

Jug, lofty again. “And, besides,

id Constantia, “they are co

phine. But she tore herself away from this fasc

ow, however, is whether we

k. Her flat little la

hat just on this one subject I’ve nev

I

making a face at her? If Kate answered “No”— and, of course, she would say “No”— what a position! How undignified! Then again Constantia suspected, she was almost certain that Kate went to her chest of drawers when she and Josephine were out, not to take things but t

see,

te,

all be abl

of as ever! If anything was displaced, it might so very well have ha

ecide. I really can’t

would sigh, “Now you’ve put the doubt into

again,” said Josephine. “I

I

barrel-organ struck up. Josephine and C

hine. “Run quickly. Th

d Constantia be told to make that monkey take his noise somewhere else. Never would sound that loud, strange bellow whe

r will th

r will th

he barre

such a strange smile; she looked dif

r hands together. “Do you know what day it is?

since fat

since fat

smiled faintly, strangely. On the Indian carpet there fell a square of sunlight, pale

d Josephine, as thou

shook from the barrel-organ, round,

and gilt image, whose smile always gave her such a queer feeling, almost a pain and yet a pleasant pain, seemed today to be more than smiling. He knew something;

black feather boa. Why did the photographs of dead people always fade so? wondered Josephine. As soon as a person was dead their photograph died too. But, of course, this one of mother was very old. It was thirty-five years old. Josephine remembered standing on a chair and pointing out that feather boa to Constantia and tellin

yeep.” But Josephine felt they were not sparrows, not on the window-ledge. It was inside her, th

han strangers? One read of people having adventures, being followed, and so on. But nobody had ever followed Constantia and her. Oh yes, there had been one year at Eastbourne a mysterious man at their boarding-house who had put a note on the jug of hot water outside their bedroom door! But by the time Connie had found it the steam had made the writing

res on the carved screen had leered at her and she hadn’t minded. She remembered too how, whenever they were at the seaside, she had gone off by herself and got as close to the sea as she could, and sung something, something she had made up, while she gazed all over that restless water. There had been this other life, running out, bringing things home in bags, getting things on approval, discussing them wit

er to where Josephine was standing. She wanted to say something to Josephin

hink perhaps

wondering if now —” she murmured. Th

on,” said

after you,” sa

e going to say. You b

what you were going to sa

be absu

lly,

nni

, J

ay what I was going to say, Jug, because I’ve for

d at a big cloud where the sun had been. The