"I require a good accompanist," said Jean.
Elma had been looking out at the window. She heard the gate open, to four minor notes, containing the augmented fourth of the opening to the Berlioz "King of Thule," which they all loved. Somebody had said "Oil that gate," and Mr. Leighton had objected because it reminded him of the "King of Thule." When Elma heard the magic notes, and looked out at the window, she could have dispensed with minor intervals for the rest of her existence.
Mr. Symington was coming up the drive.
Oh, Love of our Lives, and now this! She could at last recover from typhoid fever.
"I don't think any of you need go down to papa," said she. "There's an old johnny come to see him."
The bell rang at that moment.
Cuthbert approached her.
"I should fancy," said he, "that with all the good training you have had from Miss Grace, you would have known better than to talk of old johnnies. Who's the josser, anyway?"
"Cuthbert, my darling boy, you are just a little bit vulgar. Cuthbert, I've never been so happy in my life as I am at the present moment."
"So long as you don't weep about it, I don't mind," said Cuthbert.