Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh [14]
Presently nanny said: 'Ring the bell, dear, and we'll have some tea. I usually go down to Mrs Chandler, but we'll have it up here today. My usual girl has gone to London with the others. The new one is just up from the village. She didn't know anything at first, but she's coming along nicely. Ring the bell.'
But Sebastian said we had to go.
'And miss Julia? She will be upset when she hears. It would have been such a surprise for her.'
'Poor nanny,' said Sebastian when we left the nursery. 'She does have such a dull life. I've a good mind to bring her to Oxford to live with me, only she'd always be trying to send me to church. We must go quickly before my sister gets back.'
'Which are you ashamed of, her or me?'
'I'm ashamed of myself,' said Sebastian gravely. 'I'm not going to have you get mixed up with my family. They're so madly charming. All my life they've been taking things away from me. If they once got hold of you with their charm, they'd make you their friend not mine, and I won't let them.'
'All right,' I said. 'I'm perfectly content. But am I not going to be allowed to see any more of the house?'
'It's all shut up. We came to see nanny. On Queen Alexandra's day it's all open for a shilling. Well, come and look if you want to...'
He led me through a baize door into a dark corridor; I could dimly see a gilt-cornice and vaulted plaster above; then, opening a heavy, smooth-swinging, mahogany door, he led me into a darkened hall. Light streamed through the cracks in the shutters. Sebastian unbarred one, and folded it back; the mellow afternoon sun flooded in, over the bare floor, the vast, twin fireplaces of sculptured marble, the coved ceiling frescoed with classic deities and heroes, the gilt mirrors and scagliola pilasters, the islands of sheeted furniture. It was a glimpse only, such as might be had from the top of an omnibus into a lighted ballroom; then Sebastian quickly shut out the sun. 'You see,' he said; 'it's like this.'
His mood had changed since we had drunk our wine under the elm trees, since we had turned the comer of the drive and he had said: 'Well?'
'You see, there's nothing to see. A few pretty things I'd like to show, you one day—not now. But there's the chapel. You must see that. It's a monument of art nouveau.'
The last architect to work at Brideshead had added a colonnade and flanking pavilions. One of these was the chapel. We entered it by the public porch (another door led direct to the house); Sebastian dipped his fingers in the water stoup, crossed himself, and genuflected; I copied him. 'Why do you do that?' he asked crossly.
'Just good manners.'
'Well, you needn't on my account. You wanted to do sight-seeing; how about this?'
The whole interior had been gutted, elaborately refurnished and redecorated in the arts-and-crafts style of the last decade of the nineteenth century. Angels in printed cotton smocks, rambler-roses, flower-spangled meadows, frisking lambs, texts in Celtic script, saints in armour, covered the walls in an intricate pattern of clear, bright colours. There was a triptych of pale oak, carved so as to give it the peculiar property of seeming to have been moulded in Plasticine. The sanctuary lamp and all the metal furniture were of bronze, hand-beaten to the patina of a pock-marked skin; the altar steps had a carpet of grass-green, strewn with white and gold daisies.
'Golly,' I said.
'It was papa's wedding present to mama. Now, if you've seen enough, we'll go.'
On the drive we passed a closed Rolls-Royce driven by a chauffeur; in the back was a vague, girlish figure who looked round at us through the window.
'Julia,' said Sebastian. 'We only just got away in time.'
We stopped to speak to a man with a bicycle—'That was old Bat,' said Sebastian—and then were away, past the wrought iron,gates, past the lodges, and out on the road heading back to Oxford.
'I'm sorry said Sebastian after a time. 'I'm afraid I wasn't very nice this afternoon. Brideshead often has that effect on me. But I had to take you to see nanny.'
Why? I wondered; but said nothing