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Authors: William Horwood
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Otter, it seemed that they had arrived not a moment too soon. It was all too plain that Toad was in an advanced state of excited exhaustion and might not get through the hours ahead without yielding to a crisis of some kind.
He was propped up on cushions on a carved oak settee and constantly sighing and mopping his brow, which was scarcely surprising since the conservatory was very warm indeed.
“Pray close the door, Ratty there’s a good fellow, for the draught may give me a fever. ‘‘
“I should say the temperature in here will give you that,” said the Rat shortly “if it has not done so already.”
“Please don’t vex me,” rejoined Toad, sitting up a little, “for I have a very great deal on my mind and need a period of calm so that I may prepare myself for the ordeal ahead.”
“Ordeal?” said the Water Rat. “I thought we had come for a preliminary sitting before an artist of some kind —”
A look of exasperation crossed Toad’s face, and resignation as well, such as passes across the face of a parent who must explain something to a child who seems likely to have difficulty understanding it.
“This afternoon an artist, a world-famous sculptress no less, will commence an important undertaking in this very room, or possibly on the terrace outside. I cannot say. We do not put fetters upon such people.”
“Certainly not,” said the Otter heartily winking at the Rat.
Toad thought he was sincere and declared, “You are a good fellow, Otter, and I will put a good word in for you so that you too might find some role, albeit a small and inconsequential one, in the great enterprise which is shortly to begin.”
“That’s very decent of you, Toad,” said the Otter with a broad smile.
“Humph!” said the Badger and the Rat almost together, for both felt that Toad was making a great deal of fuss about nothing. Both regretted that they could not be more blunt on the point, but with Toad there was always the very real risk of provoking precisely the opposite reaction to that intended. Who could be sure that the wrong word said now, or too harsh a handling of their errant friend, might not provoke so volatile a seed as the idea of matrimony which the Mole had so unfortunately sown here at Toad Hall, into escalating and unstoppable growth?
The Badger and the Rat were hardened campaigners where Toad was concerned, and instinctively sensed that to cast doubt upon the artistic enterprise Toad seemed determined to engage in, or to belittle it in any way might very easily have the dire effect of thrusting the “world-famous sculptress” he had commissioned into his hapless arms. Nothing turns a fellow into the role of protector, not to say lover, more speedily than to suggest that the lady may be less than she seems, and that his rising affections might be misplaced.
Such a mistake can all too easily turn passing acquaintance into undying love, and an unscrupulous female can very rapidly turn a mere declaration of undying love into a bond both spiritual and secular that only death can put asunder. Though they had not talked about it in so many words, both the Badger and the Rat understood that this was the main thrust and danger of the situation, and they knew that defusing it would need some care.
The Otter was sitting comfortably nearby drinking tea and examining with interest the pages of a periodical placed prominently upon a low table. It was ominously entitled Ladies Home Journal and its cover was so bold in colour and design that anyone seeing it in a bachelor’s quarters might very well conclude that matters were critical indeed.
The forces of those of the female persuasion seemed already to have outflanked the Badger and his friends by placing such provocative literature under Toad’s nose. For which reason, perhaps, the Badger was restless, and paced up and down by the huge panels of glass that looked out onto the newly completed terrace and the garden beyond, pulling out his
He was propped up on cushions on a carved oak settee and constantly sighing and mopping his brow, which was scarcely surprising since the conservatory was very warm indeed.
“Pray close the door, Ratty there’s a good fellow, for the draught may give me a fever. ‘‘
“I should say the temperature in here will give you that,” said the Rat shortly “if it has not done so already.”
“Please don’t vex me,” rejoined Toad, sitting up a little, “for I have a very great deal on my mind and need a period of calm so that I may prepare myself for the ordeal ahead.”
“Ordeal?” said the Water Rat. “I thought we had come for a preliminary sitting before an artist of some kind —”
A look of exasperation crossed Toad’s face, and resignation as well, such as passes across the face of a parent who must explain something to a child who seems likely to have difficulty understanding it.
“This afternoon an artist, a world-famous sculptress no less, will commence an important undertaking in this very room, or possibly on the terrace outside. I cannot say. We do not put fetters upon such people.”
“Certainly not,” said the Otter heartily winking at the Rat.
Toad thought he was sincere and declared, “You are a good fellow, Otter, and I will put a good word in for you so that you too might find some role, albeit a small and inconsequential one, in the great enterprise which is shortly to begin.”
“That’s very decent of you, Toad,” said the Otter with a broad smile.
“Humph!” said the Badger and the Rat almost together, for both felt that Toad was making a great deal of fuss about nothing. Both regretted that they could not be more blunt on the point, but with Toad there was always the very real risk of provoking precisely the opposite reaction to that intended. Who could be sure that the wrong word said now, or too harsh a handling of their errant friend, might not provoke so volatile a seed as the idea of matrimony which the Mole had so unfortunately sown here at Toad Hall, into escalating and unstoppable growth?
The Badger and the Rat were hardened campaigners where Toad was concerned, and instinctively sensed that to cast doubt upon the artistic enterprise Toad seemed determined to engage in, or to belittle it in any way might very easily have the dire effect of thrusting the “world-famous sculptress” he had commissioned into his hapless arms. Nothing turns a fellow into the role of protector, not to say lover, more speedily than to suggest that the lady may be less than she seems, and that his rising affections might be misplaced.
Such a mistake can all too easily turn passing acquaintance into undying love, and an unscrupulous female can very rapidly turn a mere declaration of undying love into a bond both spiritual and secular that only death can put asunder. Though they had not talked about it in so many words, both the Badger and the Rat understood that this was the main thrust and danger of the situation, and they knew that defusing it would need some care.
The Otter was sitting comfortably nearby drinking tea and examining with interest the pages of a periodical placed prominently upon a low table. It was ominously entitled Ladies Home Journal and its cover was so bold in colour and design that anyone seeing it in a bachelor’s quarters might very well conclude that matters were critical indeed.
The forces of those of the female persuasion seemed already to have outflanked the Badger and his friends by placing such provocative literature under Toad’s nose. For which reason, perhaps, the Badger was restless, and paced up and down by the huge panels of glass that looked out onto the newly completed terrace and the garden beyond, pulling out his
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