"Dear Edna," said the Vicar, "she has the temperament of the artist. By the way, you young men must hear her sing. She has a lovely soprano voice. . . ."
In the drawing-room after dinner she sang. Like most singers she was easy to start and hard to stop. Grace Jerrold played her accompaniments. She sang, her glistening grey eyes on Derek's face, and a professional's smile deepening the dimples in her cheeks. It irritated Derek to see his brother's supple figure lounging against the piano. Edmund was already more familiar with Grace, he thought, than he who had known her so long. It was the first time he had ever come to Durras when he had not thoroughly enjoyed himself. He wished he had not told that story of the hunting party. He was always doing things he afterwards regretted. Good heavens, couldn't Edmund tear himself away from the piano? He thought of their tussle the night before, and wished he had hurt him more. If they had another. . . .
At last Miss Pearsall ceased singing and a game of billiards was proposed. Mr. Jerrold, Mr. Ramsey, Miss Pearsall, and Derek went upstairs to the billiard-room. The other two said they would follow later; they were going to try over some music. Derek enjoyed the billiards. One could not help enjoying a game with Mr. Jerrold. He threw himself into it with such zest, made such daring, brilliant shots, and was so unconscious of his fine physique and power. Grace and Edmund appeared after a while and remained as spectators.
It was dark, and the tea-things had been taken away when Derek remembered the party at Grimstone. "We shall have to go," he said. "I am giving a dance for Phœbe and the boys to-night and I must see how they get on."
"How interesting!" exclaimed Miss Pearsall. "I should love to see peasants dancing."
"There are fishermen, and farm hands, and berry-pickers,
