on the floor a heavy rug displayed patterns worked in odd combinations of black, black-red, sour green and blue-green, with accents of dark orange, white and red. Across the room a line of glass-fronted cabinets displayed
oddments and curios collected across eras of time and light-years of I space.
Dame Cora, turning from the door, stood irresolute a moment, chewing on an invisible bit of thread. Then she said crisply: "Naturally, Glawen, we are always happy to see you, but " Glawen bowed.
"No more need be said, Dame Cora. I am happy to be here."
Wayness entered the room.
"Who is it, Mother?" She had changed from her dark green blouse and now wore a dusky-pale frock almost the same color as her skin; in the dimness her eyes seemed large and luminous.
"Glawen? How nice to see you!"
Dame Cora said: "Glawen has presented himself as a guest, despite the inconveniences which our other guests may impose upon him."
Wayness came forward.
"You need not worry about Glawen; he is flexible and not at all diffident. In any case, either Milo or I will see to his comfort."
"That is the point," said Dame Cora.
"Both you and Milo will be needed with Julian. I am afraid that Glawen may feel quite out of things."
"Nonsense, Mother! Glawen will fit very nicely. If not, Milo can take Julian for a long walk, while Glawen and I entertain each other."
Glawen said graciously: "That will suit me very well, if worse comes to worst! Please do not worry on my account."
Dame Cora bowed.
"I will leave you with Wayness. Remember, my dear, you must not chatter so incessantly with your school chum that you neglect poor Julian." She turned to Glawen: "Julian is one of our most respected young thinkers.
He is highly artistic and very progressive! I am sure that you will like him immensely; in fact, he and Wayness are making serious plans for the future."
"That is exciting news!" said Glawen.
"I must congratulate the gentleman."
Wayness laughed.
"It would be extremely premature. Julian would think I had set my cap for him, which is far from the case; in fact, our 'serious plans' are only for an excursion to Mad Mountain Lodge later this year."
Dame Cora said coldly: "Truly, Wayness, you are far too frivolous;
Glawen will make embarrassing assumptions about your character." She nodded to Glawen and departed the room, leaving behind a heavy silence.
Glawen turned to Wayness. He bent forward to kiss her, but she drew back.
"Glawen! Have you lost your mind? Mother might come back at any instant! And then you'd hear some talk about frivolity!
Let's go to the parlor! It's far more cheerful." She led the way along a passage and into a wide airy parlor. Windows overlooked a placid expanse of lagoon. Three green rugs lay upon the bleached wooden floor; couches and chairs were upholstered in green and blue fabrics.
Wavness took Glawen to a couch; he seated himself at one end, and Wayness settled herself at the other. Glawen watched her sidelong, wondering if he would ever understand the workings other mind. He asked: "Where are your guests?"
Wayness tilted her head to listen.
"Julian and Milo are in the library studying charts of the Mad Mountain district.
Sunje lounges with one hip on the table hoping that someone will notice her intellect. The two Wardens are raking Father over the coals. It's an annual ritual which the Conservator must tolerate with good grace. Warden Algin Ballinder is Sunje's father; Warden Clytie Vergence is Julian's aunt.
Dame Etrune Ballinder, who is Sunje's mother, is gossiping with Mother in the upstairs sitting room. They take turns, each telling grim little tales of her daughter's vice and folly, while the other makes horrified noises. It is good catharsis and I approve; Mother will be quite nice to me for three or four days. Finally, in the parlor, sitting with full punctilio at one end of the couch, and for the moment behaving himself well, is the mettlesome Glawen Clattuc ofClattuc House."
"Who is happy to be here, even though he can't quite understand the reason for his presence."
Wayness showed a trace of vexation.
"Must everything have a reason attached to it, like a label?"
"In this case, the possibilities are so tantalizing that I can't help but speculate."
Wayness looked off across the room. In a soft voice she recited lines from an antique poem: ""Never put questions to the wet dark sea;
you might learn the drowning of your most darling argosies."
So sang the mad poet Navarth."
The words hung in the air. At last Glawen said: "Tell me something of your guests."
"They come in all sizes and shapes. Julian and Warden Vergence are flagrant LPFers. Warden Ballinder is no less definitely a Chartist. Dame Ballinder doesn't care, so long as everyone is polite. Sunje, with Julian nearby, calls herself a New Humanist, which means whatever she says it means. And that is the lot."
