The Brother of Daphne | Page 3

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THE BROTHER OF DAPHNE by Dornford Yates
Chapter I
Punch and Judy
Chapter II
Clothes and the man
Chapter III
When it was dark
Chapter IV
Adam and New Year's eve
Chapter V
The Judgement of Paris
Chapter VI
Which to adore
Chapter VII
Every picture tells a story
Chapter VIII
The Busy Beers
Chapter IX
A point of honour
Chapter X
Pride goeth before
Chapter XI
The love scene
Chapter XII
The order of the bath
Chapter XIII
A lucid interval
Chapter XIV
A private view
Chapter XV
All found
CHAPTER I
PUNCH AND JUDY
"I said you'd do something," said Daphne, leaning back easily in her long chair.
I stopped swinging my legs and looked at her.
"Did you, indeed." I said coldly.
My sister nodded dreamily.
"Then you lied, darling. In your white throat," I said pleasantly.
"By the way, d'you know if the petrol's come?"
"I don't even care," said Daphne. "But I didn't lie, old chap. My word is- "
"Your bond? Quite so. But not mine. The appointment I have in Town that day-"
"Which day?" said Daphne, with a faint smile.
"The fete day."
"Ah!"
It was a bazaar fete thing. Daphne and several others - euphemistically styled workers- had conspired and agreed together to obtain money by false pretences for and on behalf of a certain mission, to wit the Banana. I prefer to put it that way. There is a certain smack about the wording of an indictment. Almost a relish. The fact that two years before I had been let in for a stall and had defrauded fellow men and women of a considerable sum of money, but strengthened my determination not to be entrapped again. At the same time I realized that I was up against it.
The crime in question was fixed for Wednesday or Thursday-so much I knew. But no more. There was the rub. I really could not toil up to Town two days running.
"Let's see," I said carelessly," the fete's on- er- Wednesday, or Thursday, is it?"
"Which day are you going up to Town?" said Daphne. I changed my ground.
"The Bananas are all right," I said, lighting a cigarette.
"They only ate a missionary the other day," said my sister.
"That's bad," said I musingly. "To any nation the consumption of home produce is of vital- "
"We want to make sixty pounds."
"To go towards their next meal? How much do missionaries cost?"
"To save their souls alive," said Daphne zealously.
"I'm glad something's to be saved alive," said I.
Before she could reply, tea began to appear. When the footman had retired to fetch the second instalment of accessories, I pointed the finger of scorn at the table, upon which he had set the tray.
"That parody emanated from a bazaar," I said contemptuously.
"It does for the garden," said my sister.
"It'd do for anything," said I. " Its silly sides, its crazy legs-"
"Crazy?" cried Daphne indignantly. "It'd bear an elephant."
"What if it would?" I said severely. "It's months since we gave up the elephants."
"Is the kettle ready?"
"It boils not, neither does it sing."
"For which piece of irreverence you will do something on Thursday."
"My dear girl," I said hurriedly, " if it were not imperative for me to be in Town- "
"You will do something on Thursday." I groaned.
"And this," I said, "this is my mother's daughter! We have been nursed together, scolded together, dandled in the same arms. If she had not been the stronger of the two, we should have played with the same toys."
I groaned again. Berry opened his eyes.
"The value of a siesta upon a summer afternoon- " he began.
I cut in with a bitter laugh. "What's he going to do?" I said.
"Take a stall, of course," said Daphne.
"Is he? said Berry comfortably. "Is he? If motoring with Jonah to Huntercombe, and playing golf all day, is not incompatible with taking a stall on Thursday, I will sell children's underwear and egg cosies with eclat. Otherwise- "
"Golf," I said, "golf! Why don't I play golf?"
"I know," said Berry; "because- "
"Miserable man!" said Daphne.
"Who?" said her husband.
"You."
Berry turned to me. "You hear?" he said. " Vulgar abuse. And why? Simply because a previous engagement denies to me the opportunity of subscribing to this charitable imposition. Humble as would have been my poor assistance, it would have been rendered with a willing heart. But there!" he sighed- " It may not be. The Bananas will never know, never realize how- By the way, who are the Bananas?"
"The Bananas?" said I. "Surely you know the- "
"Weren't at Ascot, were they?"
"Not in the Enclosure. No. The bold, bad Bananas are in many ways an engaging race. Indeed, some of the manners and customs which they affect are of a quite peculiar interest. Let us look, brother, for a moment, at