“I couldn’t resist coming in to have a look at you,” she explained, after the first greetings were over. “I’ve only come up to London to see my solicitors, and I am going back to-morrow afternoon.” “But you will spend the rest of the day with me, won’t you?” asked Celia, anxiously. “Now that you have come, I don’t want to let you go.” Lady Marjorie smiled. “I shall be able to inflict my presence upon you till six o’clock,” she answered. “I have promised to dine with my brother Bexley at Eaton Square this evening, but I am free until then.” They passed up the stairs and into the waiting-room, where the girl students whiled away their spare time with musical _causerie_. Lady Marjorie expressed surprise that musicians should ever have any nerves left at all, for the medley of discordant sounds which surrounded them was enough to shatter the strongest, she thought. Pianos to right of them, pianos to left of them, violins and voices above them, and the low rumbling of the practice organ below them--it was just like a foretaste of Pandemonium. On the ledge of the book-case in the waiting-room were several letters addressed to various students. Celia had never received one at the Academy as yet, but there happened to be one for her to-day. The envelope was black bordered, and the hand-writing large and round. “It is from Gladys Milnes,” she said; “but I was not aware that she was in mourning.” “Haven’t you heard?” asked Lady Marjorie, with surprise. “I made sure Mr. Karne would have told you. Their uncle, Dr. Neville Williams, is dead; he died about three weeks ago. Geoffrey came up to town for the funeral; it is almost a wonder that you did not come across him.” This was news to Celia. She made Lady Marjorie sit down and tell her all about it. It was scarcely a suitable place for a confidential chat, for there were several students waiting about and passing through to the cloak-room; but there was so much noise going on all about them, that their voices were lost in the general hubbub. “Fancy Geoffrey Milnes in London, without paying me a visit!” she exclaimed, almost vexedly. “He might have let me know that he was coming.”