"You live there all the year round? Quelle horreur! Why don't you come to London?"
"Well, you see——" began Joan uncomfortably. But at this stage they were interrupted. For some moments Rosie had been standing motionless in the doorway, the clean handkerchief crushed in her hand. Her smouldering eyes had taken in the situation at a glance, and it seemed to her catastrophic. She stood now, paling and flushing by turns, biting her under-lip. Her thin neck was extended and shot forward; the attitude suggested an eagle about to attack. Harriet saw her there well enough, but appeared to notice nothing unusual and continued to talk to Joan. In fact her voice grew slightly louder and more intimate in tone. Rosie drew a quick breath; it was noisy and Harriet looked up impatiently; then her eyes fell to the crushed handkerchief.
"Give it to me, do!" she exclaimed.
Rosie took a step forward as if to obey, but instead she raised her arm and hurled the crumpled linen ball straight at Harriet, then snatching up her coat she fled from the room. Joan jumped up, Elizabeth looked embarrassed and Milly laughed loudly; but Harriet only shrugged her plump shoulders.
"Nom d'un nom!" she murmured softly. "Poor Rosie grows insupportable!"
The situation was somewhat relieved by a knock on the door. "Can I come in?" inquired a pleasant, deep voice.
Cassy Ryan looked from one to another of the group gathered near the tea-table. Her soft brown eyes and over-red lips suggested her Jewish origin. She was a tall girl and as yet only graciously ample.
She turned to Milly. "I've only come for a moment; I want you to try the violin obbligato over with me to-morrow, Milly; I'm not sure of that difficult passage."
She hummed the passage softly in her splendid contralto voice. "It won't take you long; you don't mind, do you?"
"Rather not!" said Milly, introducing her to Joan and Elizabeth.