"Ah, here we are. Thought you had dyed it. Golden as ever, my dear. Pleasant to see you again. Why aren’t you and this lady goin’? We could stay. Instead of prancin’, eh!"
The ill humour of having to go to the ball was on all of them evidently. But this spectacled benignity fascinated Mabel. He again was a "complete dear."
"I’m going to steal her," said Adelaide Maud, indicating Mabel, darkly; "you wait."
"Hey, what! I’ll report. Report to Lady Emily, y’know. Ye’ve taken my first partner. Hey, what! Piano? Ah, well. Not in my line, but I’m with you."
He actually accompanied them to a long alcove where a piano stood half shrouded in flowers. Here Adelaide Maud had withdrawn the little party of Jean, Mabel and herself, that they might look and play a little and enjoy themselves.
"Simpkins, more tea," she whispered. "We didn’t have half enough."
It was an admirable picnic. Mabel played "any old thing," as Adelaide Maud called it, ran on from one to another while they joked and talked and watched the "diplomatic circles" gathering force in the drawing-room. The spectacled gentleman sat himself down in complete enjoyment.
"D’ye know," he said to Jean in the same detached manner and without any kind of introduction, "no use at that kind of thing," indicating the piano, "but the girl can play. Fills me with content. Content’s the word. Difficult to find nowadays. She doesn’t strain. Not a bit. She smooths one down. A real talent. And a child! Hey, what, quite remarkable."
Lady Emily came slowly in. Two people talked to her.
The spectacled gentleman rose, and they listened to him.
"Don’t interrupt, Lady Emily. She’s got the floor, y’know. I’ve heard prima donnas. Here too. And they didn’t smooth me down. Catch a note or two of this. It gives its effect, hey? Gets your ear. Hey, what--if we had her in the House there might be hope for the country, hey, what!"
"Oh, it’s such a dream, and you are so lovely, Lady Emily, and it doesn’t seem real. So it’s very easy to play, you know."
"I should make them stop talking, but they came for that, you know. And you are playing so well, it’s too pretty an interlude. Helen didn’t tell me that you could play like this."
"And my new master makes me believe I can’t play a note," said Mabel. "I shall tell him he is quite wrong, because you said so."
