Mr Pottermack's Oversight by R. Austin Freeman

Author:R. Austin Freeman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mr Pottermack’s Oversight
ISBN: 9780755128716
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2013-01-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Mr Pottermack’s Dilemma

The sound of the piano faded away in a gradual diminuendo and at last stopped. A brief interval of silence followed.

Then Mr Pottermack, withdrawing his gaze from the infinite distance beyond the garden, turned to look at his hostess and found her regarding him with a slightly quizzical smile.

“You haven’t lit your pipe after all, Mr Pottermack,” said she.

“No,” he replied. “My savage breast was so effectually soothed by your music that tobacco would have been superfluous. Besides, my pipe would have gone out. It always does when my attention is very completely occupied.”

“And was it? I almost thought you were dozing.”

“I was dreaming,” said he; “daydreaming; but wide awake and listening. It is curious,” he continued after a pause, “what power music has to awaken associations. There is nothing like it, excepting, perhaps, scents. Music and odours, things utterly unlike anything but themselves, seem to have a power of arousing dormant memories that is quite lacking in representative things such as pictures and statues.”

“So it would seem,” said Mrs Bellard, “that I have been, in a fashion, performing the function of an opium pipe in successful competition with the tobacco article. But it is too late to mend matters now. I can hear Anne approaching with the tea-things.”

Almost as she spoke, the door opened and the maid entered, carrying a tray with anxious care, and proceeded to set out the tea-things with the manner of one performing a solemn rite. When she had gone and the tea was poured out, Mrs Bellard resumed the conversation.

“I began to think you had struck me off your visiting list. What have you been doing with yourself all this time?”

“Well,” Pottermack replied evasively – for, obviously, he could not go into details –“I have been a good deal occupied. There have been a lot of things to do; the sundial, for instance. I told you about the sundial, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but that was a long time ago. You said you were going to show it to me when it was set up, but you never have. You haven’t even shown it to Mrs Gadby. She is quite hurt about it.”

“Dear me!” exclaimed Pottermack; “how self-centred we old bachelors get! But this neglect must be remedied at once. When can you come and see it? Could you come round and have tea with me tomorrow?”

“Yes. I should like to; but I can’t come very early. Will a quarter to five do?”

“Of course it will. We can have tea first and then make a leisurely survey of the sundial and the various other things that I have to show you.”

Thus the arrangement was made, very much to Mr Pottermack’s satisfaction, for it enabled him to postpone to the morrow a certain very momentous question which he had thought of raising this very afternoon, but which now appeared a little inopportune. For a delicate question must be approached cautiously through suitable channels, and no such means of approach had presented themselves or seemed likely to.

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