Nell of Shorne Mills

Meanwhile, in the drawing-room, the ladies were sipping their coffee and

conversing in the perfunctory fashion which prevails while they are

awaiting the arrival of the gentlemen.

Lady Wolfer, who had, up to the present, borne her part in the

entertainment extremely well, suddenly appeared to have lost all

interest and all desire to continue it. She seated herself beside the

fire and next the easy-chair into which the duchess had sunk, and gazed

dreamily over the screen which she held in her hand. Some of the ladies

gathered in little groups, others turned to the books and albums, one or

two yawned almost openly. A kind of blight seemed falling upon them.

Nell, who was unused to the phenomena of dinner parties, looked round,

aghast. Were they all going to sleep? Suddenly she realized that it was

at just such a moment as this that she was supposed to come in. She

went up to Lady Wolfer and bent down to her.

"Won't somebody play or sing?" she asked. "They all seem as if they were

going to sleep."

"Let them!" retorted Lady Wolfer, almost loudly enough for those near to

hear. "I don't care. Ask some one to sing, if you like."

Nell went up to a young girl who stood, half yawning, before a picture

of Burne-Jones'.

"Will you play or sing?" she asked.

The girl looked at her with languid good humor.

"I'd sing; but I can't. I have no parlor tricks," she said. "Besides,

what's the use? Nobody wants it," and she smiled with appalling candor.

Nell turned from her in despair, and met Lady Angleford's eyes bent upon

her with smiling and friendly interest. Nell went up to her appealingly.

"I want some one to sing or play--or do something, Lady Angleford," she

said.

Lady Angleford laughed, the comprehensive, American laugh which conveys

so much.

"And they won't? I know. It isn't worth while till the gentlemen come

in," she said. "I know that--now. It used to puzzle me at first; but I

know now. You English are so--funny! In America a girl is quite content

to sing to her lady friends; but here--well, only men count as audience.

They will all wake up when the men appear. I have learned that. Or

perhaps you will play or sing?"

Lady Wolfer was near enough to hear.

"Yes, Nell, sing," she said, with a forced smile.

Nell looked round shyly, then went to the piano.

"That's the sweetest girl I've seen in England," said Lady Angleford to

her neighbor, who happened to be the dowager duchess. Her grace put up

her eyeglasses, with their long holder, and surveyed the slim, girlish

figure on its way to the grand piano.