It seemed to them that the end of a perfect day had indeed arrived when Miss Hamilton led the dinner procession of three couples into the tea room instead of the dining room. More, she explained that Jonas was proficient in Chinese cookery. Under his direction the cook would serve them with a real Chinese dinner. It began with shark-fin soup and celery hearts, went triumphantly on through chicken mushroom chop suey, chow mein, rice, cooked as few other than the Chinese can cook rice, and costly Chinese tea. It ended with a very sweet dessert of preserved kumquats, crystalized ginger, almond cakes and barley candy. Jonas had spent the greater part of the day preparing the feast from recipes which he, Brooke Hamilton and the young Chinese lord, Prince Tuan Chi, had tried out with laughter and good cheer in the immense old-fashioned kitchen of the Arms. After dinner Miss Susanna martialed the girls into the music room to sing for her. Robin was immediately besieged by all to sing. “Oh, no,” she demurred. “I’ll play for all of us to sing.” She began to play softly a song they all knew. They could not resist the lilt of it so they sang in concert. Several others, equal favorites followed. “I’ve struck,” Marjorie declared at the end of a fascinating waltz song from a recent musical success. “Not another note.” “So have I.” There was an understanding glint in Leila’s eyes. She rolled them meaningly at Vera and Katherine, then toward Robin. Two more reinforced the strike. Robin gave in and soon her glorious high soprano was filling the room with melody. She sang several of Miss Hamilton’s favorite selections from grand opera. Then she balked, insisting that each of the others should contribute a solo. Miss Susanna gave a sudden funny little cackle of laughter and agreed to do her part. The strikers could do no less. Each performer was to play her own accompaniment. “If you can’t play it, play at it,” stipulated Robin. Leila came first with what she announced was an old Irish chant. The accompaniment had a great deal of heavy rumbling in the bass, the chant rose in a heart-rending wail which threatened with every succeeding note to burst bounds and become a wild howl. It was finally drowned in a gale of laughter as Jonas, not understanding the situation, suddenly appeared in the doorway, amazement written on his face. Vera sang “Sweet and Low” so prettily she was encored and sang a baby song she had learned in the kindergarten. Her lisping baby accents set the party to laughing afresh. Katherine sang a charming little song she had learned in first year Greek. Marjorie sang “Won’t you walk a little faster?” from “Alice in Wonderland,” to a tune which her general had fitted to Carroll’s immortal words when she was a youngster. It so charmed her hearers that within twenty minutes they were caroling “Will you, won’t you?” in gleeful chorus.