They liked that. The infant Gerards were musically inclined, and nothing
pleased them better than to lift their voices in unison. Besides, it
always distressed Kit-Ki, and they never tired laughing to see the
unhappy cat retreat before the first minor chord struck on the piano.
More than that, the dogs always protested, noses pointed heavenward. It
meant noise, which was always welcome in any form.

"Will you play, Miss Erroll?" inquired Selwyn.

Miss Erroll would play.

"Why do you always call her 'Miss Erroll'?" asked Billy. "Why don't you
say 'Eileen'?"

Selwyn laughed. "I don't know, Billy; ask her; perhaps she knows."

Eileen laughed, too, delicately embarrassed and aware of his teasing
smile. But Drina, always impressed by formality, said: "Uncle Philip
isn't Eileen's uncle. People who are not relations say _Miss and Mrs_."

"Are faver and muvver relations?" asked Josephine timidly.

"Y-es--no!--I don't know," admitted Drina; "_are_ they, Eileen?"

"Why, yes--that is--that is to say--" And turning to Selwyn: "What
dreadful questions. _Are_ they relations, Captain Selwyn? Of course they
are!"

"They were not before they were married," he said, laughing.