19 August.-Found the exact right hangings for the bedstead. Helen says all that kind of thing highly insanitary. Says Gerald has had bad reports of the partridges and thinks country going to the dogs.
20 August.-H. has written to Peter about buying Talboys. Explained she thought Peter ‘liked giving people things’. He does, poor boy! Facts now apparently faced once for all-looks as though he was going to get five-and-a-half years’ arrears of patience repaid in a lump. Said mildly I thought nothing would give P. greater pleasure. When she had gone, danced quiet jig in drawing-room, to surprise of Franklin (silly woman-she ought to know me by this time).
21 August.-Harriet’s book finished and sent to publisher. This unfortunately leaves her mind free to worry about Abyssinia, so tiresome. Convinced civilisation will perish and Peter never be seen again. Like cat on hot bricks saying she wasted five years of P.’s life and can’t forgive herself and it’s no good saying he’s over age because he has M.I. written all over his conscience and if he was seventy he might still be gassed or bombed in an air-raid. Earnestly hope we shall not have another war with meat-coupons and no sugar and people being killed-ridiculous and unnecessary. Wonder whether Mussolini’s mother spanked him too much or too little-you never know, these psychological days. Can distinctly remember spanking Peter, but it doesn’t seem to have warped him much, so psychologists very likely all wrong.
24 August.-Peter has instructed agent to negotiate for Talboys with present owner-man called Noakes. His letter to me very discreet-but he is delighted. Situation in Rome apparently clearing, so far as his own job is concerned. H. still uneasy about prospects of war.
30 August.-Harriet completely exalted by letter from Peter saying, ‘Even if it is the twilight of the world, before night falls I will sleep in your arms.’… (How well I recognise the old, magniloquent Peter of twenty years back)… and adding that his plumbing is done and he has asked for his papers, which is more to the point
4 September.-They have made a good job of the chandeliers for the hall and great saloon. Gerald says they can have the tapestries from the Blue Room-they will look well on the upper landing, I think-have sent them to be overhauled and cleaned, which they badly need. (Peter would say, so do my pronouns, but I know quite well what I mean. Ahasuerus sick in Franklin’s bedroom-funny how fond he is of her, seeing she doesn’t really like cats.
7 September.-Peter wires he will be back next week. Harriet insisted on taking me out to dinner and standing me champagne. Said, hilariously, her last opportunity, as Peter doesn’t care for champagne. Condoled with her on loss of freedom in brief and witty speech (brief for me, anyway). Should like to see Helen taking me out to dinner and listening to a speech.
14 September.-Peter came back. He dined somewhere with Harriet and then came round to see me-alone, so nice of them, because of course I had said, bring her too. P looks thin and tired, but I think that must be Mussolini, the weather or something, because he obviously has no doubts about anything (except the League, naturally)-and it struck me so much that he sat absolutely quiet for near two hours without fidgeting or saying very much, so unusual because as a rule peas on a hot shovel are nothing to it. Very sweet about what I had done as regards the house. Will leave it to me to engage staff, as Harriet not experienced. They will need about eight servants, besides Bunter and the housekeeper, so I shall have a nice busy time.
15 September.-Harriet came round this morning to show me her ring-big solitaire ruby-old Abrahams had it cut and set specially to instructions. Poor H. laughed at herself because when Peter gave it to her yesterday she was looking at him and ten minutes afterwards, when challenged, couldn’t even tell him the colour of the stone. Said she was afraid she never would learn to behave like other people, but Peter had only said it was the first time his features had ever been prized above rubies. Peter joined us at lunch-also Helen, who demanded to see the ring, and said sharply, ‘Good Heavens! I hope it’s insured.’ To do her justice, I can’t see that she could have found anything nastier to say if she’d thought it out with both hands for a fortnight. She then went on to say she supposed they intended to get married quietly before the Registrar, but Peter said, No, he would as soon be married in a railway-station waiting-room, and that if Helen had developed religious scruples she need not lend her countenance to the proceedings. So Helen said, ‘Oh, I see-St George’s, Hanover Square, I suppose’-and went on to arrange everything for them, including the date, the parson, the guests and the music. When she got to ‘The Voice that Breathed o’er Eden,’ Peter said, ‘Oh, for God’s sake, cut out the League of Nations!’ and he and Harriet began to invent rude rhymes, which left Helen rather out of it, as she never was good at drawing-room games.
16 September.-Helen obligingly presented us with a copy of the new form of marriage service, with all the vulgar bits left out-which was asking for trouble. Peter very funny about it-said he knew all about the ‘procreation of children’, in theory though not in practice, but that the ‘increase of mankind’ by any other method sounded too advanced for him, and that, if he ever did indulge in such dangerous amusements, he would, with his wife’s permission, stick to the old-fashioned procedure. He also said that, as for the ‘gift of continence’, he wouldn’t have it as a gift, and had no objection to admitting as much. At this point, Helen got up and left the house, leaving P. and Harriet to wrangle over the word ‘obey’. P. said he would consider it a breach of manners to give orders to his wife, but H. said. Oh, no-he’d give orders fast enough if the place was on fire or a tree falling down and he wanted her to stand clear. P. said, in that case they ought both to say ‘obey’, but it would be too much jam for the reporters. Left them to fight it out. When I came back, found Peter had consented to be obeyed on condition he might ‘endow’ and not ‘share’ his worldly goods. Shocking victory of sentiment over principle.
18 September.-Must really say ‘Damn!’ Disgusting newspapers have raked up all that old story about Harriet and Philip Boyes. Peter furious. Harriet says, ‘Only to be expected.’ Was horribly afraid she might offer to release P. from engagement, but she controlled herself nobly-expect she realises it would nearly kill him to go through that again. Think it is probably fault of that Sylvester-Quicke woman who tried so hard to get hold of Peter-have always suspected her of writing gossip-column for Sunday papers. Helen (coming down strong, but heavy-footed, on family side) determined that best plan is to have colossal Society wedding and face it out. Has decided, for reasons best known to herself, 16th October most suitable date. Kindly undertaken choice of bridesmaids-our own friends, as H.’s friends ‘obviously impossible’-and offered loan of house for reception-also ten villas belonging to impoverished nobility for honeymoon. Peter, losing patience, said, ‘Who’s getting married, Helen? You or we?’ Gerald tried to take Head of Family line-well snubbed all round. Helen again gave her views, and ended by saying, ‘Then I take it the 16th is settled.’ Peter said, ‘Take what you like.’ Helen said she would take her departure till he chose to realise she was only doing her best for them-and Gerald looked so imploring that Peter apologised for incivility.