The Summer of Sir Lancelot

kept strictly out of sight. And my brother-in-law himself, whom I invited for a few days, left this morning.‘
    ‘I do so hope you‘re right,‘ said Anthony Waterfall doubtfully. ‘If I even go to the dentist‘s, I am upset for weeks.‘
    ‘In my country we have many famous surgeons,‘ mentioned the African. ‘Oh, yes. Our honoured President is very keen on surgery.‘
    ‘So pleasant for your children to be near Regent‘s Park,‘ remarked the Bishop as they all mounted the steps. ‘They flourish, I trust?‘
    ‘Indeed yes, Arthur. My eldest, I am glad to say, suddenly seems to be taking a great interest in literature. Randolph is preparing his mind for serious work at Cambridge. And the two little ones shared the Good Conduct Prize at school. Here we are, Mrs Chuffey,‘ he added, opening the front door.
    He was glad to notice her fresh white overall as she gathered the hats and umbrellas. He felt it important when entertaining members of Government committees to make a good impression. One never knew where it might lead to.
    ‘A glass of sherry?‘ he invited, leading his four guests into the drawing room. He wondered if he might squeeze in a few conjuring tricks afterwards.
    Mr Nightrider pulled up. He frowned. In armchairs on opposite sides of the fireplace sat an elderly man and a smart middle-aged woman, both concentrating on old copies of The Field. Neither took the slightest notice of the new arrivals.
    ‘Doubtless friends of my wife‘s,‘ he whispered quickly to his companions. ‘She will not be joining us at lunch, naturally.‘
    He grimly determined to raise the matter, as he often put it rather nastily in the House, at a later and appropriate occasion.
    ‘You won‘t mind us, I‘m sure?‘ he asked the elderly visitor jovially.
    The man looked up. ‘I‘ll shift my mac,‘ he murmured, freeing a chair. He got on with his Field again.
    ‘Luncheon will be ready in a minute, I am sure.‘ Mr Nightrider reached for the decanter. ‘Ah, here is Mrs Chuffey now,‘ he added with relief. ‘Perhaps, gentlemen, if we take our sherry glasses— ‘
    ‘Mr Gregson,‘ said Mrs Chuffey.
    The elderly man rose and followed her out.
    ‘Extraordinary!‘ muttered Mr Nightrider.
    ‘Most,‘ grunted the General in agreement.
    Mr Nightrider noticed the middle-aged woman eyeing him sternly over the top of her magazine.
    ‘Forgive me for not introducing,‘ he remarked hastily, raising a smile. ‘This is the Bishop of Montserrat, Mr N‘agga, General Bunch, and of course Anthony Waterfall. No doubt you are waiting to see my wife?‘
    ‘Very kind of you, I‘m sure, but I‘m waiting to see the doctor.‘
    The smile switched off at the mains. ‘The...the...? One...one moment.‘ He shot outside. ‘Mrs Chuffey! Will you please inform that woman in the drawing room this very instant that the house is no longer in use for purposes of medical practice.‘
    ‘Oh, but it is,‘ she returned calmly. ‘Sir Lancelot is consulting. Dr Dinwiddie sent him quite a batch of new cases.‘
    ‘Sir Lancelot!‘ Mr Nightrider‘s eyes flashed to the closed door of his study. ‘Consulting, indeed! In my house! I think I‘ll just have a word with — ‘
    ‘Would you mind?‘ Mrs Chuffey barred the way. ‘You can‘t go interrupting a surgical consultation like that. Really, sir! I‘d have thought a gentleman like you‘d have known better.‘
    Mr Nightrider halted. He wiped his bald head with his handkerchief. ‘Perhaps we could have some lunch?‘ he asked weakly.
    ‘The shrimps are on the table, sir.‘
    ‘A slight but quite ludicrous mistake by the domestic staff,‘ he explained to his guests in the drawing-room. ‘I am sure you will overlook it when you see what excellent fare they provide. Would you now come through to luncheon? No, not you, madam, only the gentlemen.‘
    ‘I‘m afraid I‘m not very hungry,‘ protested Anthony Waterfall, sniffing in the hall. ‘The smell of antiseptic or whatever it is seems to linger in these doctors‘ houses. It quite turns my stomach.‘
    They all sat down to their shrimps.
    The author‘s appetite revived when he noticed the cold lobster and Chablis to follow, and Mr Nightrider, who usually took only mineral water with his food, downed half a bottle of wine and began looking less like a badly defeated amendment. By the end of the meal he was addressing his guests as though they were his right honourable friends on the benches opposite.
    ‘Culture, of