Part 10 (1/2)

He followed it up with another. This one with a chorus, consisting chiefly of ”Umpty Umpty Umpty Umpty Ay,” which was vociferously encored.

By the time it was done with, Madge had discovered a girl who could sing ”Three Little Pigs;” and a sad, pale-faced gentleman who told stories. At the end of one of them Madge's brother spoke to Joan in a tone more of sorrow than of anger.

”Hardly the sort of anecdote that a truly n.o.ble and high-minded young woman would have received with laughter,” he commented.

”Did I laugh?” said Joan.

”Your having done so unconsciously only makes the matter worse,” observed Mr. Singleton. ”I had hoped it emanated from politeness, not enjoyment.”

”Don't tease her,” said Madge. ”She's having an evening off.”

Joan and the Singletons were the last to go. They promised to show Mr.

Halliday a short cut to his hotel in Holborn.

”Have you thanked Miss Lessing for a pleasant evening?” asked Mr.

Singleton, turning to Mr. Halliday.

He laughed and put his arm round her. ”Poor little woman,” he said.

”You're looking so tired. It was jolly at the end.” He kissed her.

He had pa.s.sed through the swing doors; and they were standing on the pavement waiting for Joan's bus.

”Why did we all like him?” asked Joan. ”Even Miss Lavery. There's nothing extraordinary about him.”

”Oh yes there is,” said Madge. ”Love has lent him gilded armour. From his helmet waves her crest,” she quoted. ”Most men look fine in that costume. Pity they can't always wear it.”

The conductor seemed impatient. Joan sprang upon the step and waved her hand.

CHAPTER VII

Joan was making herself a cup of tea when there came a tap at the door.

It was Mrs. Phillips.

”I heard you come in,” she said. ”You're not busy, are you?”

”No,” answered Joan. ”I hope you're not. I'm generally in about this time; and it's always nice to gossip over a dish of tea.”

”Why do you say 'dish' of tea!” asked Mrs. Phillips, as she lowered herself with evident satisfaction into the easy chair Joan placed for her.

”Oh, I don't know,” laughed Joan. ”Dr. Johnson always talked of a 'dish'

of tea. Gives it a literary flavour.”

”I've heard of him,” said Mrs. Phillips. ”He's worth reading, isn't he?”

”Well, he talked more amusingly than he wrote,” explained Joan. ”Get Boswell's Life of him. Or I'll lend you mine,” she added, ”if you'll be careful of it. You'll find all the pa.s.sages marked that are best worth remembering. At least, I think so.”

”Thanks,” said Mrs. Phillips. ”You see, as the wife of a public man, I get so little time for study.”