As she sat down she spread out one arm along the top of the brocaded sofa. Above a long brown neck, Preraphaelite neck, poised a little pointed chin. Nan felt herself sitting stiffly with pursed lips. She let herself sink back in her chair. "O Fitzie, I've heard about the tour. Isn't it great? I almost wish I were going along. Think of the squalling and squabbling there'll be; won't it be grand? It was funny enough going out to Worcester that time, but the grand continental tour of the embattled Fadettes'll be an unholy shriek." There was a knock at the door. A waiter came in half hidden under a teatray balanced over one shoulder. "Would either of you prefer a cocktail or a glass of port or something?" "O no, tea will be just delicious," said Fitzie, shaking hastily the red feather of her hat. "Nothing could be better than tea, Mrs. Van Troppfer," said Nan quietly. "Did you know, Fitzie, I've given up the violin? After all this time, isn't it ridiculous?" The brown eyes were looking in Nan's, wide amused. "Yes, I'm afraid I'm a rolling stone, and certainly I shan't gather moss. Think how they'd be horrified up at the conservatory.... I'm going to try to sing again. You see, I always had wanted to sing and only took up the violin because I could get quicker money by it. Then I had mother to support." "Really, I never knew that," said Fitzie, suspending a spoonful of pastry half way to her mouth. "O families are a perpetual problem, aren't they?" said the Worthington girl, laughing. Nan ate a cream cornucopia delicately, between sips of tea. The crisp pastry and the faint cheese flavor in the white cream made her think of Paris, station restaurants, and fogs and concerts. "We are going abroad again in a week or two and I'm going to work like a Trojan ... try to strike while the iron's hot. You see, my husband and Hammerstein claim that I have a good stage presence and ought to take a whack at the Opera Comique. That's what the Fadettes did for me! I keep telling them that I'm too long-necked to be a singer ... but I guess I'll take a try at it. Maybe I'll have luck." "Your husband must have great connections," said Fitzie in a humble tone. "That won't do any good unless I manage to learn to sing, will it?" She turned laughing to Nan, "Do have a little more tea, I'm afraid I'm boring you with all my chatter.... I hear you are studying with Salinski, Miss Taylor. How do you find him? He knows the instrument all right, but it's difficult to hold him down, he's getting so social these days." "Still if he's really interested in your work," Nan heard herself say. "O, that's another thing ... He never was interested in me, I know that." There was a knock at the door. "Come!" called the Worthington girl. The bellboy came in with a telegram on a plate. "All right, bring it here; thanks."