APARTMENTS
in staring letters. This she dropped behind the piano.
"Hook me up behind, 'Melia, will you," she said, "when you have finished Mother? No, I'll do Mother and you do me. Your hair-ribbon is wrong. Let me get hold of it."
The Welwyns, mère et filles, formed themselves into a voluble equilateral triangle.
"I found that 'Apartments' card lying on the hall table," said Tilly with a shiver. "I suppose Russell took it out of the drawer when he was making his inventory. A nice thing if they had all marched in through the front door at that very moment! Still," she added cheerily, "there's no harm done. Am I all right, do you think?"
"Tilly, you look lovely," said Amelia.
"One thing about being a dress-designer," admitted Tilly, kissing her little sister, "is that you can design yourself a dress. 'Melia, you look a little duck. Mother, your hair is n't quite right. Let me pull it out a bit here."
She tweaked the coiffure of her much-enduring parent into position, whistling blithely. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes sparkled. She was determined to look her best for Dicky that day. And to do her justice, she did.
"Tilly dear," remarked Mrs. Welwyn dubiously, "can we all get round that table for tea?"
"Gracious!" cried Tilly, observing the heavily loaded table for the first time. "You are never going to plant everybody round that, like nursery tea?"