At eleven the servants brought out the lemonade and cakes, and at twelve they brought the tea. Then she waved to the men on the tennis court and they paused their game and joined her. The lawn stretched green and bright all the way from the manor walls to the hedgerows. The children were rounded up from somewhere and seated. They were all here, the nieces and nephews, the daughters-in-law, the earnest sons-in-law. The day was warm, but a pleasant breeze necessitated her shawl. The garden filled with the scent of peonies. The sandwiches were passed around. The tea was poured.
          Young Cecilia’s daughter would not sit still. Madam cast a sardonic look at the mother, and order was restored. William and Francis were bickering again, but a few seconds of silence on her part was enough to quiet them. She smiled and we all laughed. In the distance, the farmer, his horse and plough. A bee on the lid of the sugar bowl.
          Everyone leaned in their chairs, enjoying the sunshine. A cigar was smoked. The young men’s white shirts were damp. The ladies sat cool within their hats. The young ones grew restless and Madam signaled that it was fine to rise from the table. The servants, blue-vested and efficient, cleared the plates as the children ducked between chair legs and giggled and shrieked, not unpleasantly. She gestured them away, to ramble and play in more open spaces. The adults, over crumbs, discussed events.
          What joy, this day!
          The afternoon lasted. Croquet. Blind man’s bluff. The few clouds scudded. Newspapers, and the things of the world. Some gossip… really, my dears!
          The afternoon declined. Hunting arranged for next week. Some took their leave, spoilsports. But enough remained. The lamps on the balcony were lit. Dinner, dessert, digestifs and coffee. The men grew pompous, the women bored and indulgent. Now they are retiring to their rooms, now a final few are driving home.
          Madam sits at her window and in the house her guests rest well. The night is fine, so fine!
          In the morning there will be eggs, and congee, and hot bacon and warm bread, and juices and jams and more coffee, and the morning papers.
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