From this Lady Caroline concluded that she had been extravagant, and promptly countermanded the cream.
Costanza's face fell, for she had a cousin who had a cow, and the cream was to have come from them both.
"And perhaps we had better not have chickens," said Lady Caroline.
Costanza's face fell more, for her brother at the restaurant kept chickens in his back-yard, and many of them were ready for killing.
"Also do not order strawberries till I have consulted with the other ladies," said Lady Caroline, remembering that it was only the first of April, and that perhaps people who lived in Hampstead might be poor; indeed, must be poor, or why live in Hampstead? "It is not I who am mistress here."
"Is it the old one?" asked Costanza, her face very long.
"No," said Lady Caroline.
"Which of the other two ladies is it?"
"Neither," said Lady Caroline.
Then Costanza's smiles returned, for the young lady was having fun with her and making jokes. She told her so, in her friendly Italian way, and was genuinely delighted.
"I never make jokes," said Lady Caroline briefly. "You had better go, or lunch will certainly not be ready by half-past twelve."
And these curt words came out sounding so sweet that Costanza felt as if kind compliments were being paid her, and forgot her disappointment about the cream and the chickens, and went away all gratitude and smiles.
"This," thought Lady Caroline, "will never do. I haven't come here to housekeep, and I won't."
She called Costanza back. Costanza came running. The sound of her name in that voice enchanted her.
"I have ordered the lunch for to-day," said Lady Caroline, with the serious angel face that was hers when she was annoyed, "and I have also ordered the dinner, but from now on you will go to one of the other ladies for orders. I give no more."
The idea that she would go on giving orders was too absurd. She never gave orders at home. Nobody there dreamed of asking her to do anything. That such a very tiresome activity should be thrust upon her here, simply because she happened to be able to talk Italian, was ridiculous. Let the originals give orders if Mrs. Fisher refused to. Mrs. Fisher, of course, was the one Nature intended for such a purpose. She had the very air of a competent housekeeper. Her clothes were the clothes of a housekeeper, and so was the way she did her hair.