"Are any of these Mrs. Clarkson?"
"All of them."
He muttered something in his mustache. "And what's this?" he asked of a sudden.
The young man (for as such Miss Bouverie was beginning to regard him) was standing under the flaming bill of a grand concert to be given in the township of Yallarook for the benefit of local charities.
"Oh, that's Mrs. Clarkson's concert," he was informed. "She has been getting it up, and that's why she's had to go to Melbourne—about her dress, you know."
He smiled sardonically through mustache and monocle.
"Her charity begins near home!"
"It need not necessarily end there."
"Yet she sings five times herself."
"True—without the encores."