“Oh, nonsense, Madge, you must not give me such a bad character! I am very fond of music really, Miss Thomas,” he said, turning to Marion; “but I always prefer it at home. Somehow, a concert always makes me feel very sleepy towards the end. I don’t know if it is the heat, or what.”
“You ought not to mind the heat, surely,” she suggested, smiling.
He laughed.
“Well, at all events, it is not nearly so enjoyable.”
“Well, what about the house, Tom?” asked his sister, as she drank her tea and ate Marion’s crisp little home-made cakes appreciatively.
“Green Lawn, in the next street but one, has just the number of rooms you want. Everything about it seems all right, and there is an excellent tennis lawn. Could you move by Lady Day?”
“Yes, I must. Did you see no others?”
“What was the good of looking at others until you had signified that this would not do,” he remarked sagely.
“Marion, can you come and look at it with us?”
“Yes, certainly,” and she went to put on her hat.