Make a mournful rustling."
—that's all it says about it.
The Niece (finding a certain vagueness in this as a description). Oh! But there are no leaves—unless it means the leaves in the book she's reading. Still I think it must be ELLEN TERRY; don't you?
The C.A. (cautiously.) Well, my dear, I always think it's as well not to be too positive about a portrait till you know who it was painted from.
[The Matter-of-Fact Persons have arrived at a Pastel representing several green and yellow ladies seated undraped around a fountain, with fiddles suspended to the branches above.
Second M.-of-F.P. "Marigolds," that's called. I don't see any though. [With a sense of being imposed upon.
First M.-of-F.P. I think I do—yes, those orange spots in the green. They're meant for Marigolds, but there aren't very many of them, are there? And why should they all be sitting on the grass like that? Enough to give them their deaths of cold!
Second M.-of-F.P. I expect they've been bathing.
First M.-of-F.P. They couldn't all bathe in that fountain, and then what do you make of their bringing out their violins?
[The other M.-of-F. Person making nothing of it, they pass on.