still had an hour before the brake was to start back, and it was
then the concertinas came in useful. They sat down on the grass, and
the concert was begun by Harry, who played a solo; then there was a
call for a song, and Jim stood up and sang that ancient ditty, 'O dem
Golden Kippers, O'. There was no shyness in the company, and Liza,
almost without being asked, gave another popular comic song. Then
there was more concertina playing, and another demand for a song. Liza
turned to Tom, who was sitting quietly by her side.

'Give us a song, old cock,' she said.

'I can't,' he answered. 'I'm not a singin' sort.' At which Blakeston
got up and offered to sing again.

'Tom is rather a soft,' said Liza to herself, 'not like that cove
Blakeston.'

They repaired to the public-house to have a few last drinks before the
brake started, and when the horn blew to warn them, rather unsteadily,
they proceeded to take their places.

Liza, as she scrambled up the steps, said: 'Well, I believe I'm
boozed.'

The coachman had arrived at the melancholy stage of intoxication, and
was sitting on his box holding his reins, with his head bent on his
chest. He was thinking sadly of the long-lost days of his youth, and
wishing he had been a better man.

Liza had no respect for such holy emotions, and she brought down her
fist on the crown of his hat, and bashed it over his eyes.

'Na then, old jellybelly,' she said, 'wot's the good of 'avin' a fice
as long as a kite?'

He turned round and smote her.

'Jellybelly yerself!' said he.

'Puddin' fice!' she cried.

'Kite fice!'

'Boss eye!'

She was tremendously excited, laughing and singing, keeping the whole
company in an uproar. In her jollity she had changed hats with Tom,
and he in her big feathers made her shriek with laughter. When they
started they began to sing 'For 'e's a jolly good feller', making the
night resound with their noisy voices.

Liza and Tom and the Blakestons had got a seat together, Liza being
between the two men. Tom was perfectly happy, and only wished that
they might go on so for ever. Gradually as they drove along they
became quieter, their singing ceased, and they talked in undertones.
Some of them slept; Sally and her young man were leaning up against
one another, slumbering quite peacefully. The night was beautiful, the
sky still blue, very dark, scattered over with countless brilliant
stars, and Liza, as she looked up at the heavens, felt a certain