Читать книгу Time and the Hour - Howard Spring - Страница 12

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“PS.—I could impart the elements of the pianoforte to the proposed pupil.”

As Aunt Jessie finished reading, the proposed pupil came into the room, with his hair plastered into a decorous parting and an Eton suit hung upon his skinny figure. The Great Hudson whose speech as a Regency rake would have been considered by Mrs. Wayland very haut ton wore the Yorkshire Doric with his tweeds and carpet slippers. “Well, lad,” he said to his son, “hasta nowt to say to visitors?”

Chris had nothing to say, and Aunt Jessie did not help him. Dick looked at him in perplexity, and said: “See what I mean? Summat’s got to be done. Now listen, Jess. A taxi chap that I ordered’ll be ’ere any minute. Where’s this Marlborough House?”

A bang at the knocker announced the taxi. “I’ll take you there, lad,” Aunt Jessie said. “It’s on my way. If you’re starving after the cold collation, just look in next door. That’s where I live. Buckingham Palace is my place. But don’t be nervous. I’ll tell the sentries to let you by.”

The taxi slithered through the snow. It was a short journey, cold and miserable, but it gave Anthony time to think what a dreary little tick Chris Hudson was; he hadn’t a word to say to anybody. But, come to that, neither had Anthony himself. He was too perplexed by the contrast he had stumbled on: Dick in his carpet slippers and The Great Hudson.