He threw away the second cigarette. It was strange for him to go to the
drawing-room at this hour of the day, but he went.

Opening the door quietly, he saw the long, pleasant room lighted with
tall oil-lamps, and Mrs. Bellew seated at the piano, singing. The
tea-things were still on a table at one end, but every one had finished.
As far away as might be, in the embrasure of the bay-window, General
Pendyce and Bee were playing chess. Grouped in the centre of the room,
by one of the lamps, Lady Maiden, Mrs. Winlow, and Mrs. Brandwhite had
turned their faces towards the piano, and a sort of slight unwillingness
or surprise showed on those faces, a sort of "We were having a
most interesting talk; I don't think we ought to have been stopped"
expression.

Before the fire, with his long legs outstretched, stood Gerald Pendyce.
And a little apart, her dark eyes fixed on the singer, and a piece of
embroidery in her lap, sat Mrs. Pendyce, on the edge of whose skirt lay
Roy, the old Skye terrier.

"But had I wist, before I lost,
That love had been sae ill to win;
I had lockt my heart in a case of gowd
And pinn'd it with a siller pin....
O waly! waly! but love be bonny
A little time while it is new,
But when 'tis auld, it waxeth cauld,
And fades awa' like morning dew!"

This was the song George heard, trembling and dying to the chords of the
fine piano that was a little out of tune.