The Atom was standing, with absorbed countenance, one foot extended, balancing a pin-cushion. On her head was the slop basin.
"Don't—speak—to me!"
The whisper was earnest and intense, but at that moment Kate Kearney crept up, picked off the pin-cushion, and frisked away with it. The slop basin fell with a crash.
"Oh, we shall catch it," said Nell, eying the pieces.
"I was tryin' to do the balancin' clown."
On the previous Saturday Ted had appeared very casually with a box at a circus going begging.
"Pity to waste it," he had observed uncomfortably.
He had not explained that he had booked for that box three weeks before, and had never summoned up courage to mention it till the very day itself.
They had enjoyed every moment of that circus; and Sheila Pat had striven to do many things since that she had witnessed that day.
"Next time," advised Denis, from the hall, "you practise the clown, do it with sofa-cushions, Atom. It will come more economical in the end."