He was going to deliver Lucia's answer at Mrs
Quantock's house, and with a view to possibly meeting the Guru, and
being introduced to him, he said over to himself "Guru, Guru, Guru"
instead of doing deep breathing, in order to accustom himself to the
unusual syllables.
It would, of course, have been very strange and un-Riseholme-like to
have gone to a friend's door, even though the errand was so impersonal
a one as bearing somebody else's note, without enquiring whether the
friend was in, and being instantly admitted if she was, and as a matter
of fact, Georgie caught a glimpse, when the knocker was answered (Mrs
Quantock did not have a bell at all), through the open door of the
hall, of Mrs Quantock standing in the middle of the lawn on one leg.
Naturally, therefore, he ran out into the garden without any further
formality. She looked like a little round fat stork, whose legs had not
grown, but who preserved the habits of her kind.
"Dear lady, I've brought a note for you," he said, "it's from Lucia."
The other leg went down, and she turned on him the wide firm smile that
she had learned in the vanished days of Christian Science.
"Om," said Mrs Quantock, expelling the remainder of her breath. "Thank
you, my dear Georgie. It's extraordinary what Yoga has done for me
already. Cold quite gone. If ever you feel out of sorts, or depressed
or cross you can cure yourself at once.
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