'Well, Harry,' said Leonora with languid good nature. He paid his homage in form to the mistress of the house; raised his eyebrows at Milly, who returned the gesture; smiled upon Ethel, who feebly waved a hand as if too exhausted to do more; and then sat down on the piano-stool, carefully easing the strain on his trousers at the knees and exposing an inch of fine wool socks above his American boots. He was a familiar of the house, and had had the unconditional _entrée_ since he and the Stanway girls first went to the High Schools at Oldcastle. 'I hope I haven't disturbed your beauty sleep--any of you,' was his opening remark. 'Yes, you have,' said Ethel. He continued: 'I just came in to seek a little temporary relief from the excellent Quain. Quain at breakfast, Quain at chapel, Quain at dinner.... I got him to slumber on one side of the hearth and mother on the other, and then I slipped away in case they awoke. If they do, I've told Cissie to say that I've gone out to take a tract to a sick friend--back in five minutes.' 'Oh, Harry, you are silly!' Millicent laughed. Every one, including the narrator, was amused by this elaborate fiction of the managing of those two impressive persons, Mrs. Burgess and the venerable Christian geologist, by a kind, indulgent, bored Harry. Leonora, who had resumed her magazine, looked up and smiled the guarded smile of the mother. 'I'm afraid you're getting worse,' she murmured, and his candid seductive face told her that while he was on no account not to be regarded as a gay dog, and a sad dog, and a worldly dog, yet nevertheless he and she thoroughly appreciated and understood each other. She did indeed like him, and she found pleasure in his presence; he gratified the eye. 'I wish you'd sing something, Milly,' he began again after a pause. 'No,' said Milly, 'I'm not going to sing now.' 'But do. Can't she, Mrs. Stanway?' 'Well, what do you want me to sing?' 'Sing "Love is a plaintive song," out of the second act.' Harry was the newly appointed secretary of the Bursley Amateur Operatic Society, of which both Ethel and Millicent were members. In a few weeks' time the Society was to render _Patience_ in the Town Hall for the benefit of local charities, and rehearsals were occurring frequently. 'Oh! I'm not Patience,' Milly objected stiffly; she was only Ella. 'Besides, I mayn't, may I, mamma?' 'Your father might not like it,' said Leonora. 'The dad has taken Bran out for a walk, so it won't trouble him,' Ethel interjected sleepily under her breath. 'Well, but look here, Mrs. Stanway,' said Harry conclusively, 'the organist at the Wesleyan chapel actually plays the sextet from _Patience_ for a voluntary. What about that? If there's no harm in that----' Leonora surrendered. 'Come on, Mill,' he commanded. 'I shall have to return to my muttons directly,' and he opened the piano. 'But I tell you I'm not Patience.'