gently removing her hand from his. His eyes were shining with pleasure.
"I do. I envy them enormously. One only needs to be sufficiently naive," he said.
"One does, doesn't one!" cooed Julia.
"I say, do you hear the bells?" said Robert, poking his head into the room.
"No, dear! Do you?" replied Julia.
"Bells! Hear the bells! Bells!" exclaimed the half-tipsy and self-conscious Jim. And he rolled in his chair in an explosion of sudden, silent laughter, showing his mouthful of pointed teeth, like a dog. Then he gradually gathered himself together, found his feet, smiling fixedly.
"Pretty cool night!" he said aloud, when he felt the air on his almost bald head. The darkness smelt of sulphur.
Josephine and Robert had moved out of sight. Julia was abstracted, following them with her eyes. With almost supernatural keenness she seemed to catch their voices from the distance.
"Yes, Josephine, wouldn't that be awfully romantic!"—she suddenly called shrilly.
The pair in the distance started.
"What—!" they heard Josephine's sharp exclamation.
"What's that?—What would be romantic?" said Jim as he lurched up and caught hold of Cyril Scott's arm.
"Josephine wants to make a great illumination of the grounds of the estate," said Julia, magniloquent.
"No—no—I didn't say it," remonstrated Josephine.
"What Josephine said," explained Robert, "was simply that it would be pretty to put candles on one of the growing trees, instead of having a Christmas-tree indoors."
"Oh, Josephine, how sweet of you!" cried Julia.
Cyril Scott giggled.
"Good egg! Champion idea, Josey, my lass. Eh? What—!" cried Jim. "Why not carry it out—eh? Why not? Most attractive." He leaned forward over Josephine, and grinned.
