'What shall we do?' asks Lord Helmdon, gazing helplessly round on the remaining guests. 'Miss Seaton, suggest something, do!'
'I can't think of anything,' answers Lippa, longing for some distraction to her thoughts.
'Don't you think a little music would be nice,' says Miss Appleby, 'nothing enlivens one so much on a wet day.'
'Let us have some by all means,' says Helmdon. 'I say Tommy, I'm sure you'll honour us with a song, eh, what?'
Tommy is a very juvenile young man, with light hair parted down the middle, a red face, and pince-nez.
'Anything you like,' he responds gaily.
'Come along then,' and away starts Chubby to the drawing-room followed by the others. 'Now, ladies and gentlemen,' he begins having opened the piano, 'I give you fair warning that every one of you will have to contribute to the entertainment.'
'Catch me,' says George Seaton, and on the earliest opportunity slips away to the smoking-room.
Miss Appleby is called upon to begin and sings a dear little song with very few words in it.
'Tommy, it's your turn next,' says Paul, 'I'll accompany you!'