"Or you might continue playing the piano," Mrs. Fielden went on, "after any one has been announced. I notice that that is very often done, especially in books written by the hero himself in the first person. 'She did not leave the piano as I entered, but continued playing softly, her white hands gliding dreamily over the keys.'"
"I shall do my best," Palestrina answered; "and I thought of calling all our guests by their Christian names, if only I could recollect what they are."
"Nicknames would be better," said Mrs. Fielden. "We ought to have found out, I think, something about this matter before the night of the party."
"What shall we do till they arrive?" said Palestrina.
"We must read newspapers and periodicals," Mrs. Fielden replied, "and then fling them down on the carpet. There is something about seeing newspapers on a carpet which is certainly untidy, but has a distinctly Bacchanalian touch about it."
"I wish I had a red tea-gown," sighed my sister.
"Or a white one trimmed with some costly furs," said Mrs. Fielden. "Almost any tea-gown would do."
"One thing I will have!" she exclaimed, starting in an energetic manner to her feet. "I'll turn all the lamps low, and cover them with pink-paper shades. Where is the crinkly paper and some ribbon?"
After that we sat in a rose twilight so dim that we couldn't even read the evening newspaper.
"I don't think they need have come quite so early," I said, as the first ring was heard at the door-bell.