"Exactly!" said the Colonel. "Precisely! tanky-tank-tang! that is the essence of half the drawing-room music one hears; and the other half is apt to be the kind of cacophonous folderol that my nephew Jack tortures the inoffensive air with. By the way, Hildegarde,—hum, ha! nothing of the sort!"
"I beg your pardon, Colonel Ferrers!" said Hildegarde, somewhat perplexed, as was no wonder.
"Nothing of the slightest consequence," said the Colonel, looking slightly confused. "My absent way, you know. Oblige us with another song, will you, my dear? 'Mary of Argyle,' if you have no special preference for anything else. My mother was fond of 'Mary of Argyle'; used to sing it when I was a lad,—hum, ha! several years ago."
"In one moment, Colonel Ferrers. I just wanted to ask you, since you spoke of Jack,—have you any idea when we shall see the dear fellow? Is there any chance of his getting home in time for Christmas?"
But here the Colonel became quite testy. He vowed that his nephew Jack was the most irresponsible human being that ever lived, with the exception of his father. "My brother Raymond—Jack's father, you are aware, Mrs. Grahame—never knows, it is my belief, whether it is time to get up or to go to bed. As to eating his meals—it is a marvel that the man is alive to-day. Never sits down at a Christian table when he is alone. Housekeeper has to follow him round with plates of victuals, and put them under his nose wherever he happens to stand still. Never sits down, my brother Raymond. Like Shelley the poet in that respect—"
"Did Shelley never sit down?" asked Bell, innocently. "I never heard—"
"I—hum, ha!—alluded to the other peculiarity," said the Colonel. "Shelley would stand—or sit—for hours, I have been told, with his dinner under his nose, entirely unconscious of it. I have never believed the story that he wrote a sonnet with a stalk of asparagus one day, taking it for a pen. Was surprised, you understand, at finding nothing on the paper. Ha!"
"Colonel Ferrers," said Hildegarde, gravely, "it is my belief that you made up that story this very instant."
"Quite possible, my dear," said the Colonel, cheerfully. "Absence of mind, you know—"
"Or presence!" said the girl, significantly. "I wonder why we are not to hear about our Jack."