Shyly, with a false start, they began. Bobbing and circling, earnest, not very adroit, they went past and past his chair to the strains of that waltz. He watched them and the face of her who was playing turned smiling towards those little dancers thinking:

“Sweetest picture I’ve seen for ages.”

A voice said:

“Hollee! Mais enfin⁠—qu’est-ce que tu fais la⁠—danser, le dimanche! Viens, donc! ”

But the children came close to old Jolyon, knowing that he would save them, and gazed into a face which was decidedly “caught out.”

“Better the day, better the deed, Mam’zelle. It’s all my doing. Trot along, chicks, and have your tea.”