"And you don't sing at all."
"But I accompany."
"A bitter irony! But, I say, what's this? 'Under the distinguished patronage of Sir Julian Crum, Mus. Doc., D.C.L.' Who may he be?"
"Director of the Royal College of Music, in the old country," the girl answered with a sigh.
"Royal College of Music? That's something new, since my time," said the visitor, sighing also. "But what's a man like that doing out here?"
"He has a brother a squatter, the next station but one. Sir Julian's spending the English winter with him on account of his health."
"So you've seen something of him?"
"I wish we had."
"But Mrs. Clarkson has?"
"No—not yet."