“There is so much wind needed for the flute,” said Mr. George. “It is an instrument which reminds one of a hurricane.”
“I love a penny whistle,” said Launa. “I can play ‘Honey, my honey,’ on mine.”
“Play it now,” said Mr. George. “Please, Miss Archer. I really cannot call you Miss Archer any longer. Miss Launa is so much prettier; and Launa is the prettiest name in the world.”
“You may call me Launa if you like. I never was called Miss Archer as much as I have been since I came to England. I will play the penny whistle for you some day. Mrs. Carden would not like it now.”
“Pray do not mind me; I must go. I am always at home at half-past five; I dine at six. I came, my dear Launa, to ask you to come and spend a few quiet days with me while your father is away. Charlie is also away.”
“Thank you. It is very kind of you to think of me,” replied Launa. “I cannot come and stay, for I promised my father I would not leave the flat just now. You see all our servants are new, and he would not like me to leave them alone.”
“How terrible if they danced in your music room,” said Mr. Wainbridge, with a smile.
“Terrible,” said Launa.
“There is no reason why we should not dance there,” observed Mr. George. “Example! precept! Let us dance.”
“I think, Launa, it would be much better for you to come to the shelter of an English home, during the time of your father’s absence. It is not proper for you to remain here alone.”