To pacify her, I consented to this, well knowing which of us would sleep on the floor. In the afternoon they took us out in the motor, and this we enjoyed, for motors were then something of a novelty, and Uncle Edward did not come. Tea passed off quite peacefully. After tea Viola again proposed to dance for us, and again Fiammetta politely but firmly gainsayed the suggestion unless she, too, might perform, which was not in the least what Viola wanted. As the fateful hour of six approached I trembled, especially as Fiammetta left us without any explanation (we were gathered on the lawn in front of the drawing-room windows) and calmly walked into the house. I watched the slim blue figure vanish; presently she returned, carrying one of the Jungle books. "What’s the use of getting that just as we’re going in to papa?" asked Hermy. "It’s because I’ve got to go in to Mr. Stacey that I’ve fetched it. I don’t care for that book about Mr. d’Arcy, so I’ll read this." Hermy and Viola gasped, I quaked, Aunt Alice looked rather frightened; Fräulein and Mademoiselle regarded Fiammetta with silent admiration. "I don’t think papa would like you to do that, my dear," Aunt Alice said gently. "You see, if he is kind enough to read to us, the least we can do is to listen carefully." "Why, if we don’t want to?" Fiammetta persisted. "If I mayn’t read in there, may I stay out here and read?" "Papa likes us _all_ to be present when he’s so good as to read to us," Aunt Alice said more firmly. "It would never do for one of our guests to miss his reading. Give me that book, dear!" Aunt Alice held out her hand for the book. Fiammetta put it behind her back: "Mrs. Stacey," she said earnestly, "I don’t understand. Is it like church? Nurse says we go to church here because it’s pleasing to the Almighty—we never go in London, daddie and I. Do we have to listen to Mr. Stacey because it’s pleasing to the Almighty, or what?" Aunt Alice lost her temper. "You must do as you are told," she said shortly. "Give me that book. I see papa at the window; he is ready for us." With a sigh Fiammetta handed over the Jungle Book and we all filed into the drawing-room. Uncle Edward sat in his usual chair, carefully placed so that the light fell at exactly the right angle upon his book. We all settled ourselves to listen respectfully, except Fiammetta, who, just as he was about to begin, stood up and said, "Mr. Stacey, do _you_ mind if I go into the garden instead of listening?" Uncle Edward gazed at Fiammetta in the utmost astonishment: "Don’t you want to hear the reading?" he asked. "Not a bit," Fiammetta said firmly. "I know you do it for kindness and all that, but it _does_ bore me so. I asked Mrs. Stacey, but she seemed to think you’d mind ... you don’t, _do_ you?" and she smiled in friendliest fashion at Uncle Edward. "It is, of course," he said slowly, "a matter of pure indifference to me whether you are present or not."