"And which do you like best, Mums, a horse or motor?" asked Noel.
"It's easy to see which the poet liked best," said Mrs. Inglefield, laughing. "I think I like them both; if I were rich, I would keep a car to take me long distances, and a horse to ride when I wanted to enjoy the country."
"And now we'll have our dance," said Diana.
There was a great bustle then, clearing the chairs away. Chris had the honour of dancing with his mother, and Diana danced with Noel. They turned their small gramophone on, and all enjoyed themselves. When they at last had to stop from sheer fatigue, Mrs. Inglefield made a little speech in which she thanked them all most gratefully for their successful entertainment.
"It has kept your dullness away," said Diana with a satisfied smile. "I'm so glad. I promised you I would keep you from being dull."
Her mother did not remember the promise, but she was touched by her little daughter's thought for her.
"Did you like Dinah's story?" Chris asked.
"Very much. It was a sweet little story. I did not know I had a daughter who was an authoress. What a proud mother I shall be when her first book is published!"
Diana got rosy red. That was the dream and desire of her heart. She lay in bed at night imagining the time when a real book of hers should be in her hand fresh from the publishers, with her name in big letters across its title page.
A little later that evening they all went down to the boudoir. They always spent an hour before their mother's dinner with her there.