The dutiful Sam, who appeared entirely to share his mother’s jubilation at the arrival of these new visitors, obeyed the order with alacrity.
“Come on, young fellows,” said he; “just in time for shouting proverbs. You go and sit down by Miss Tomkins, Horace, her in the green frock; and you had better go next Jemima, Cruden. When I say ‘three and away’ you’ve got to shout. Anything’ll do, so long as you make a noise.”
“No, they must shout their right word,” said Miss Tomkins, a vivacious-looking young person of thirty.
“Come close,” said she to Horace, “and I’ll whisper what you’ve got to shout. Whisper, ‘Dog,’ that’s your word.”
Horace seated himself dreamily where he was told, and received the confidential communication of his partner with pathetic resignation. He only wished the signal to shout might soon arrive. As for Reginald, when he felt himself once more in the clutches of the captivating Jemima, and heard her whisper in his ear the mysterious monosyllable “love,” his heart became as ice within him, and he sat like a statue in his chair, looking straight before him. Oh, how he hoped “Omega” would give him some occupation for his evenings that would save him from this sort of thing!
“Now call them in,” said Sam.
A signal was accordingly given at the door, and in marched a young lady, really a pleasant, sensible-looking young person, accompanied by a magnificently-attired young gentleman, who, to Horace’s amazement, proved to be no other than the melancholy Booms.
There was, however, no time just now for an exchange of greetings.
Mr Booms and his partner were placed standing in the middle of the floor, and the rest of the company were seated in a crescent round them. There was a pause, and you might have heard a pin drop as Samuel slowly lifted his hand and said in a stage whisper,—
“Now then, mind what you’re at. When I say ‘away.’ One, two, three, and a—”