The Governor's Lady by Norman Collins

crowd. The path for the Residency Rolls had been kept wide open but, by now, the sightseers had surged forward again. Mr. Frith kept glancing at his watch, and telling the driver to hurry.
    There was certainly no delay when they reached the House. The A.D.C. had already miraculously changed back into his plain white, and was waiting for them. He agreed with Mr. Frith that it had been a simple and beautiful Service.
    â€˜Rather good singing, I thought.’
    â€˜Full turn-out, too.’
    â€˜Henderson was Methodist, actually.’
    â€˜Really?’
    And with that, they passed through into the Governor’s suite. The Governor himself appeared to have been caught unprepared. Still wearing his blue dress trousers, he had removed his scarlet jacket altogether and undone the stud of his collarband. But he was at his most cordial. He was standing with his back to the empty fireplace, glass in his hand.
    â€˜Ah, come in, Mr. Frith. Come in. And you, too, Mr. Stebbs. You’lljoin me in a drink, I hope. Very hot in the Cathedral. Very hot indeed.’ He looked over to the A.D.C. ‘Remind me to have a word with the Dean about it. It’s really quite intolerable. There must be something they can do.’ He had swung round again. ‘You enjoyed the ceremony, Mr. Stebbs?’
    â€˜I thought it was very moving,’ Harold told him. The Governor seemed pleased.
    â€˜It was, wasn’t it,’ he replied. ‘Pity there were no relatives. And the Bishop was too long again. He knows: he saw me looking at him. You don’t want a sermon on an occasion of that kind. You simply want a tribute.’
    â€˜I agree,’ Harold said politely.
    But he had spoken too soon; spoken when there had been no need to speak at all, in fact. The Governor immediately turned on him.
    â€˜Not that a human life can be dismissed just like that,’ he went on, with a wave of the hand. ‘After all, it
is
Divine Service, and it
is
a Funeral Oration. It’s not exactly in the nature of a testimonial, is it Mr. Stebbs?’
    This time, Harold knew enough not to answer; Mr. Frith could have saved himself the little damping down motions that he was making with his hands.
    â€˜But I didn’t bring you here to discuss sermons, Mr. Stebbs,’ the Governor told him. T brought you here to congratulate you. And you, Mr. Frith, for finding him. The statistical pages are excellent. Quite excellent.’ He paused. ‘They’ll all have to be done again, of course. But no matter.’
    â€˜Done again?’
    â€˜That surprises you, Mr. Stebbs? You’re entirely blameless, I assure you. It’s simply that I have decided to redraft the Budget. There will be an entirely new Budget along entirely new lines.’
    Mr. Frith gave a sudden, little jump.
    â€˜Does Financial Secretary…’ he began.
    â€˜Oh yes,’ Sir Gardnor replied. ‘He knows. I’ve just told him. I’ve asked him to come over, in fact. It seems he’s short-handed. Is he, Mr. Frith?’
    â€˜Two down in establishment, sir,’ Mr. Frith told him, ‘and one on extended sick leave. Financial Secretary is due to go away himself, sir, at the end of the month.’
    â€˜Then that may have to be postponed, mayn’t it, Mr. Frith?’ Sir Gardnor continued. He was at his blandest and most smiling by now. ‘A new budget will naturally mean more work for all of us, won’t it? And that is where our friend Mr. Stebbs can be of such assistance.’
    He was speaking in the encouraging manner of a School Visitor at a prize-giving.
    â€˜And you can assist me, too, Mr. Frith,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you could put Mr. Stebb’s on Financial Secretary’s strength. That would strengthen it, wouldn’t it?’ Sir Gardnor poured himself another drink while he was speaking, and smiled at Harold. ‘I don’t doubt that between us we can produce a Budget, do you Mr.