"What a clever boy he is! Children are so wonderful nowadays! When Delestin was only six he played all Chopin's Valses and Liszt's Rhapsodies by heart. Of course that's some time ago now, but it shows what boys can do."
"By Jove!" said Savile.
"Who's your great friend at school, dear?"
"Oh—I suppose Sweeny's my greatest pal. He's in the eleven," added Savile explanatorily.
"Oh, yes! I daresay—a very nice boy too. He has a marvellous likeness to you, Mary dear," Lady Virginia said, using the long-handled glass, "especially about the—well—the ears—and forehead. Are you musical, my dear?"
"I like some of it," said Savile, with a sigh.
"You're like James, too," said Lady Virginia, "and I think I see a look of his mother, Mary."
"You never saw her, and you know it," said Aunt William, who always tried in vain to pin Virginia down to facts.
"Yes, but that was merely by chance," said Lady Virginia, getting into her cloak. "Then I shall expect you, Mary, to come and hear Delestin play? Oh, no, I forgot—you said you couldn't. I'm so sorry; but I must fly.... I've a thousand things to do. You know my busy life! I'm the President of the Young Girls' Typewriting Society, and I have to go and see about it. How we poor women ever get through the season with all the work we do is more than I can ever understand."
Aunt William became much more cordial at the prospect of her friend's departure, and when Virginia had at last fluttered out, after dropping the gold bag and the ivory fan twice, Savile said—