That would be jam for Georgie,
and he could easily imagine himself saying to Lucia, "My dear, I thought
you must have known that she had married Mr Shuttleworth and kept her
maiden name! How tarsome for you! They are so touchy about that sort of
thing."
Georgie heard the tinkle of the treble part of the Mozart trio (Lucia
always took the treble, because it had more tune in it, though she
pretended that she had not Georgie's fine touch, which made the bass
effective) as he let himself in to Shakespeare's garden a few minutes
before the appointed time. Lucia must have seen him from the window,
for the subdued noise of the piano ceased even before he had got as far
as Perdita's garden round the sundial, and she opened the door to him.
The far-away look was in her eyes, and the black undulations of hair
had encroached a little on her forehead, but, after all, others besides
Lucia had trouble with their hair, and Georgie only sympathized.
"Georgino mio!" she said. "It is all being so wonderful. There seems a
new atmosphere about the house since my Guru came. Something holy and
peaceful; do you not notice it?"
"Delicious!" said Georgie, inhaling the pot-pourri. "What is he doing
now?"
"Meditating, and preparing for our class. I do hope dear Daisy will not
bring in discordant elements."
"Oh, but that's not likely, is it?" said Georgie. "I thought he said
she had so much light.
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