Georgie was agreeably surprised to find her so much herself when he came over for dinner. Pepino, whose cold was still extremely heavy, went to bed very soon after, and he and Lucia settled themselves in the music room. “First a little chat, Georgie,” she said, “and then I insist on our having some music. I’ve played nothing lately, you will find me terribly out of practice, but you mustn’t scold me. Yes, the spit has gone: dear Daisy said the Museum was most anxious to get it, and I took it across myself this afternoon. I must see what else I can find worthy of it.” This was all rather splendid. Lucia had a glorious way of completely disregarding the past, and pushing on ahead into the future. “And have you been playing much lately?” she asked. “Hardly a note,” said Georgie, “there is nobody to play with. Piggy wanted to do some duets, but I said ‘No, thanks.’” “Georgie, you’ve been lazy,” she said, “there’s been nobody to keep you up to the mark. And Olga? Has Olga been down?” “Not since--not since that Sunday when you were both down together,” said he. “Very wrong of her to have deserted Riseholme. But just as wrong of me, you will say. But now we must put our heads together and make great plans for August. I shall be here to bully you all August. Just one visit, which Pepino and I are paying to dear Adele Brixton on Saturday, and then you will have me here solidly. London? Yes, it has been great fun, though you and I never managed to arrange a date for your stay with us. That must come in the autumn when we go up in November. But, oh, how tired I was when we settled to leave town yesterday. Not a kick left in me. Lots of engagements, too, and I just scrapped them. But people must be kind to me and forgive me. And sometimes I feel that I’ve been wasting time terribly. I’ve done nothing but see people, people, people. All sorts, from Alf Watson the pugilist----” “No!” said Georgie, beginning to feel the thrill of Lucia again. “Yes, he came to dine with me, such a little duck, and brought his flute. There was a great deal of talk about my party for Alf, and how the women buzzed round him!” “Who else?” said Georgie greedily. “My dear, who _not_ else? Marcelle--Marcelle Periscope came another night, Adele, Sophy Alingsby, Bertie Alton, Aggie--I must ask dear Aggie down here; Tony--Tony Limpsfield; a thousand others. And then of course dear Marcia Whitby often. She is giving a ball to-morrow night. I should like to have been there, but I was just _finito_. Ah, and your friend Princess Isabel. Very bad influenza. You should ring up her house, Georgie, and ask how she is. I called there yesterday. So sad! But let us talk of more cheerful things. Daisy’s clock-golf: I must pop in and see her at it to-morrow. She is wonderful, I suppose. I have ordered a set from the Stores, and we will have great games.”