her and make plans for her and talk baby-language?”
“Who told you I ever did?” asked Georgie.
“Gracious! How can I possibly remember that sort of thing? I should say at a guess that everybody told me. Now poor Mrs Lucas is feeling out of it, and neglected and dethroned. It’s all on my mind rather, and I’m talking to you about it, because it’s largely your fault. Now we’re talking quite frankly, so don’t fence, and say it’s mine. I know exactly what you mean, but you are perfectly wrong. Primarily, it’s Mrs Lucas’s fault, because she’s quite the stupidest woman I ever saw, but it’s partly your fault too.”
She turned round.
“Come, Georgie, let’s have it out,” she said. “I’m perfectly powerless to do anything, because she detests me, and you’ve got to help her and help me, and drop your selfishness. Before I came here, she used to run you all, and give you treats like going to her tableaux and listening to her stupid old Moonlight Sonata, and talking seven words of Italian. And then I came along with no earthly intention except to enjoy my holidays, and she got it into her head that I was trying to run the place instead of her. Isn’t that so? Just say ‘yes.’”
“Yes,” said Georgie.
“Well, that puts me in an odious position and a helpless position. I did my best to be nice to her; I went to her house until she ceased to ask me, and asked her here for everything that I thought would amuse her, until she ceased to come. I took no notice of her rudeness which was remarkable,
