immediately went to talk to the nearest man.

The gong sounded for the luncheon. The men looked up, but no move was
made to the dining-room. The women of the house seemed not to feel that
the sound had meaning for them. Five minutes passed by. The elderly
manservant, Crowther, appeared in the doorway exasperatedly. He looked
with appeal at Gerald. The latter took up a large, curved conch shell,
that lay on a shelf, and without reference to anybody, blew a
shattering blast. It was a strange rousing noise, that made the heart
beat. The summons was almost magical. Everybody came running, as if at
a signal. And then the crowd in one impulse moved to the dining-room.

Gerald waited a moment, for his sister to play hostess. He knew his
mother would pay no attention to her duties. But his sister merely
crowded to her seat. Therefore the young man, slightly too dictatorial,
directed the guests to their places.

There was a moment's lull, as everybody looked at the BORS D'OEUVRES
that were being handed round. And out of this lull, a girl of thirteen
or fourteen, with her long hair down her back, said in a calm,
self-possessed voice:

'Gerald, you forget father, when you make that unearthly noise.'

'Do I?' he answered. And then, to the company, 'Father is lying down,
he is not quite well.'

'How is he, really?' called one of the married daughters, peeping round
the immense wedding cake that towered up in the middle of the table
shedding its artificial flowers.