"Oh, I see--it's a kind of habit. Well, I dare say Mrs. Worfolk will be able to find you an old duster or something." "Duster," echoed Viola, scornfully. "That's not enough for dressing up." "I didn't suggest a duster as anything but a supplement to your ordinary costume. I didn't anticipate that you were going to rely entirely upon the duster." "I say, V, can you twig what Uncle John says?" Viola shook her head. "Nor more can I," said Bertram, sympathetically. Before the taxi reached Church Row, John found himself adopting a positively deferential manner towards his nephew and his niece, and when they were once again back in the quiet house, the hall of which was faintly savoury with the maturing lunch he asked them if they would mind amusing themselves for an hour while he wrote some letters. "For I take it you won't want to dress up immediately," he added as an excuse for attending to his own business. The children confirmed his supposition, but went on to inform him that the domenical regime at Earl's Court prescribed a walk after church. "Owing to the accident to my hat I'm afraid I must ask you to let me off this morning." "Right-o," Bertram agreed, cheerfully. "But I vote we come up and sit with you while you write your letters. I think letters are a beastly fag, don't you?" John felt that the boy was proffering his own and his sister's company in a spirit of altruism, and he could not muster enough gracelessness to decline the proposal. So upstairs they all went. "I think this is rather a ripping room, don't you, V?" "The carpet's very old," said Viola. "Have you got any decent books?" Bertram inquired, looking round at the shelves. "Any Henty's, I mean, or anything?" "No, I'm afraid I haven't," said John, apologetically. "Or bound up Boys Own Papers?" John shook his head. "But I'll tell you what I have got," he added with a sudden inspiration. "Kingsley's _Heroes_." "Is that a pi book?" asked Bertram, suspiciously. "Not at all. It's about Greek gods and goddesses, essentially broad-minded divinities." "Right-o. I'll have a squint at it, if you like," Bertram volunteered. "Come on, V, don't start showing off your rotten dancing. Come and look at this book. It's got some spiffing pictures." "Lunch won't be very long," John announced in order to propitiate any impatience at what they might consider the boring entertainment he was offering.