s cuttings from the old tree,' said Rolfe. 'There is England's
future.'

'Perhaps so. At present they are barbarous, and I have a decided
preference for civilisation. So have you, I am quite sure.'

Rolfe murmured his assent; whereupon Sibyl rose, just bent her head to
him, and moved with graceful indolence away.

'Now she hates _me_,' Harvey said in his mind; 'and much I care!'

As a matter of courtesy, he thought it well to move in Miss
Frothingham's direction. The crowd was thinning; without difficulty he
approached to within a few yards of her, and there exchanged a word or
two with the player of the viola, Miss Leach--a good, ingenuous
creature, he had always thought; dangerous to no man's peace, but
rather sentimental, and on that account to be avoided. Whilst talking,
he heard a man's voice behind him, pretentious, coarse, laying down the
law in a musical discussion.

'No, no; Beethoven is not _Klaviermaszig_. His thoughts ate
symphonic--they need the orchestra.... A string quartet is to a
symphony what a delicate water-colour is to an oil-painting.... Oh, I
don't care for his playing at all! he has not--what shall I call
it?--_Sehnsucht_.'

Rolfe turned at length to look. A glance showed him a tall, bony young
man, with a great deal of disorderly hair, and shaven face;
harsh-featured, sensual, utterly lacking refinement. He inquired of
Miss Leach who this might be, and learnt that the man's name was Felix
Dymes.

'Isn't he a humbug?'

The young lady was pained and shocked.

'Oh, he is very clever,' she whispered. 'He has composed a most
beautiful song--don't you know it?--"Margot". It's very likely that
Topham may sing it at one of the Ballad Concerts.'

'Now I've offended _her_,' said Rolfe to himself. 'No matter.'

Seeing his opportunity, he took a few steps, and stood before Alma
Frothingham. She received him very graciously, looking him straight in
the face, with that amused smile which he could never interpret. Did it
mean that she thought him 'good fun'? Had she discussed him with Sibyl
Carnaby, and heard things of him that moved her mirth? Or was it pure
good nature, the overflowing spirits of a vivacious girl?

'So good of you to come, Mr. Rolfe. And what did you think of us?'

This was characteristic. Alma delighted in praise, and never hesitated
to ask for it. She hung eagerly upon his unready words.

'I only show my ignorance when I talk of music. Of course, I liked it.'

'Ah! then