“Quite realistic,” said he.
“She could always play a part well,” said mother.
“I should think,” said Emily, “she could take a role in life and play up to it.”
“I believe she could,” mother answered, “there would only be intervals when she would see herself in a mirror acting.”
“And what then?” said Marie.
“She would feel desperate, and wait till the fit passed off,” replied my mother, smiling significantly.
The players came in again. Lettie kept her part subordinate. Leslie played with brilliance; it was rather startling how he excelled. The applause was loud—but we could not guess the word. Then they laughed, and told us. We clamoured for more.
“Do go, dear,” said Lettie to Leslie, “and I will be helping to arrange the room for the dances. I want to watch you—I am rather tired—it is so exciting—Emily will take my place.”
They went. Marie and Tom, and Mother and I played bridge in one corner. Lettie said she wanted to show George some new pictures, and they bent over a portfolio for some time. Then she bade him help her to clear the room for the dances.
“Well, you have had time to think,” she said to him.