done."

"My dear little sister," I said sweetly, "I should simply love it, but
the fact is--I can't."

"Can't," echoed Margery. "Why not?"

"I hate to mention these things," I explained, "but the fact is I
took part in a war that has been on recently, and I have a bad hip,
honourable legacy of same."

"Oh, Alan," said Margery, "how can you? Your hip's absolutely fit, you
know it is. You haven't mentioned it for months."

"My dear Margery," I said, drawing myself up, "I hope your brother
knows how to suffer in silence. But if you suppose that because I
don't complain--Great heavens, child, sometimes in the long silent
watches of the night--"

"Well, how about, tennis, then?" said Margery. "You've been playing
all this summer, you know you have."

"All what summer?" I asked.

"That's a good one," said John; "I bet she can't answer that."

"Don't quibble," said Margery.

"Don't squabble," said Cecilia.

"Yes, stop squibbling," said John.

"I'm not quabbling," said I.

John and I leaned against each other and laughed helplessly.

"When you have finished," said Cecilia with a cold eye, "perhaps you
will decide which of you is going to have the first lesson."

"Good heavens," said John tragically, "haven't they forgotten the
dancing yet?"

"We may as well give way, John," I said; "we shall get no peace until
we do."

"I suppose not," said John dismally "Very well, then, you're her
brother you shall have first go."

He waved me politely to Margery.

"Not at all," I said quickly "Brothers-in-law first in our
family--always."

"Could we both come together?" asked John.

"No, you can't," said Margery.

"Then we must toss for it," said John, producing a coin.

"Tails," I called.

"Tails it is," said John, walking across the room to Margery.

And the lesson commenced.

* * * * *

"_Chassee_ to the right, _chassee_ to the left, two steps forward, two
steps backward, twinkle each way--"

"Five shillings on Twinkle, please," I interrupted.

Margery stopped and looked at me.

"You keep quiet, Alan," shouted Cecilia, cheerfully banging the piano.

"I shall never learn," said John miserably from the middle of the
room, "not in a thousand years."

"Yes, you will," encouraged Margery. "Just listen. _Chassee_ to the
right, _chassee_ to the left, two steps forward, two steps back,
twinkle each way--"

"Take away the number you first thought of," I suggested, "and th