'It's a pity
she gets no chance of practising.'
I looked at him sternly. 'No chance! On the contrary, she never lets
a chance escape her. I think it's the fierce Northern strain she
inherits from you, Henry, that makes her so persistent. She reminds me
of Bannockburn----'
'Bannockburn!' ejaculated Henry.
'King Bruce and the Spider and all that, you know. Didn't he go on
trying and trying until he succeeded? That's what The Kid does with
her scales. I think I understand why in 1603 we put a Scotch King on
the English throne--you wouldn't have given us any peace if we hadn't.'
'Well, don't blame me for it, my dear,' replied Henry. 'I dropped in
to tell you that William has just 'phoned up to say he accepts our
invitation to dinner this evening, but he is most anxious to know who
else is coming.'
I stared. 'This is most unusual. What should it matter to him who is
coming?'
'I told him, of course, that there was only Marion and ourselves, and
then he asked if he should get into evening dress. What do you think
of that?' We looked at each other in silent amazement.
'William--in--evening--dress,' I echoed blankly. 'What can it mean?'
'Frankly, I think the poor old chap's brain is getting a little
unhinged,' hazarded Henry. 'Do you remember the episode with the white
spats and gloves the other day? I think you ought to persuade him to
see a specialist, my dear.
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