Aunt Elizabeth was tempted. "Well ... then--some quiet place without a band. As it happens I have a good ear for music and I won't risk my digestion by swallowing to Tango time! And--Marie Tempest, for choice--there's no nonsense about her!" Her voice was brisk. "I'm tired of having sermons preached at me from the stage, or so-called 'Comedies'--which are nothing but an excuse for extravagant dress. I want to be amused, you see, not stunned by mere colour and light, and rows of common, simpering girls advertising for a husband." With a characteristic gesture she straightened the wayward brown fringe. "In _my_ young days we went to the play to see people really _act_. But now everyone's attention is riveted on the production! A sort of marionette show in which the performers seem to count as auxiliaries to the epigrams parcelled out by the author. You don't hear people praise the art of the actor. Oh, dear, no. It's: 'Isn't it well put on?' or 'Aren't the dresses simply _sweet_?'" McTaggart laughed heartily. "There's a great deal in what you say. Well, I'll be back within the hour. I'm so glad you can come." He foresaw that the evening might prove a quaint experience in the company of his new friend with her sharp eyes and caustic tongue. The little old maid smiled at him. "You'll find me quite ready," she replied, "and looking forward to my treat." But in her heart she was saying: "I believe the boy's fond of Jill. And Mary's such an utter fool! I must see into this myself. Edward, I know, would thank me for it. He seems a nice, manly fellow..." Little McTaggart guessed her thoughts, nor the impulse prompting her to accept. As he left the room he heard the parrot, shrouded and sulky, drawing corks! CHAPTER XXIII A month passed quickly away. Almost every day McTaggart's car drew up at the house near Primrose Hill, and Jill and Roddy joyfully mounted in it, with an occasional fourth in the shape of Aunt Elizabeth. Then off they went out of London into the cooler country air, a trio of gay explorers armed with maps and a pic-nic hamper. _Such_ cakes! For Mrs. Belsey had fallen a victim to Roddy's charms, his wheedling voice and jolly laugh and "Cookie--just _one_ jam-puff?" Miss Uniacke, too, had thoroughly enjoyed what she was pleased to call her "bounden duty." From attic to cellar the musty old house had been turned literally inside out. For the invalid had improved at a surprisingly quick rate. No longer the household moved on tiptoe. Good food and the sense of all responsibility shelved on to the shoulders of the capable little old maid; her careful nursing and cheerful common sense had gone far to hasten the cure. With her two devoted well-trained servants and a charwoman (forbidden "chatter!") Aunt Elizabeth had probed into every hole and corner. The episode of the dead mouse (in a disused cupboard under the stairs) had proved the culminating point in her campaign against disorder.