look which he had brought to a fine art, and which proved one of his
greatest assets in times of stress and strain.

"What are you doing?"

"Jus' readin' quietly in my room, mother."

"Oh, for heaven's sake don't disturb him, then," said William's
sister.

"It's those silly books you read, Emma. You're always imagining
things. If you'd read the ones I recommend, instead of the foolish
ones you will get hold of----"

William's mother was safely mounted on one of her favourite
hobby-horses. William withdrew to his room and carefully concealed the
cream blanc-mange beneath his bed. He then waited till he heard the
guests arrive and exchange greetings in the hall. William, listening
with his door open, carefully committed to memory the voice and manner
of his sister's greeting to her friends. That would come in useful
later on, probably. No weapon of offence against the world in general
and his own family in particular, was to be despised. He held a
rehearsal in his room when the guests were all safely assembled in the
drawing-room.

"Oh, _how_ are you, Mrs. Green?" he said in a high falsetto, meant to
represent the feminine voice. "And how's the _darling_ baby? _Such_ a
duck! I'm dying to see him again! Oh, Delia, darling! There you are!
_So_ glad you could come! What a perfect darling of a dress, my dear.
I know whose heart you'll break in that! Oh, Mr. Thompson!"--here