‘The sun; nonsense!’ exclaimed Mr Portland. ‘I never heard you give that excuse before, though we’ve been in several hot countries together. Come along to the billiard-room. You shouldn’t go wandering away by yourself in this fashion, and thinking over your sins. It’s enough to give any man the blues. I couldn’t stand it myself. You’ll forget it before the first game’s over.’ ‘No, thanks, Jack, not to-night. I don’t feel fit to compete with your excellent play. I’ll sit here instead and listen to Nora’s singing.’ And he threw himself on a sofa by his wife’s side as he spoke. ‘Ulysses at the feet of Penelope!’ sneered Mr Portland. ‘Well, Ilfracombe, long as I’ve known you, I never saw you turned into a carpet knight before.’ ‘Only for this evening,’ said the earl lazily, as he settled himself comfortably on the sofa. Jack Portland appeared quite aggrieved by his defalcation. ‘Well, come along Sir Archibald and Lumley and the rest of you fellows. Don’t let us waste our time looking at his lordship doing the lardi-dardi. He owes me my revenge for the “fiver” he made me disgorge last night; but I suppose it’s no use trying to get it out of him now.’ And, with a rude laugh, he left the room. Ilfracombe lent back against the shoulder of his wife, and said,-- ‘Sing something, darling, won’t you? Something low and sweet, like “Come to me.” My head is really painful, and I want soothing to-night.’ ‘I will sing anything you like,’ replied Nora, as she rose and went to the piano.