she merely said, "I think it must be his double-bass. My husband is
apt in hours of depression to seek the consolation of that
instrument."

"But, my dear madam, what is the tune?"

"I think," she faltered, "I am not sure, but I rather think, it is
the 'Dead March' in _Saul_."

There was no doubt of it. The notes by this time vibrated piteously
through the party-wall, and with their awful solemnity triumphed over
all conversation. Tones became hushed, as though in the presence of
death; and the Vicar, in his desperate attempts to talk, found his
voice chained without mercy to the slow foot of the dirge. He tried
to laugh.

"Really, this is too absurd--ha! ha! _Tum-tum-tibby-tum_." The
effort ended in ghastly failure. _Thrum-thrum-tiddy-thrum_ went the
Admiral's instrument.

Miss Limpenny grew desperate. "Sophia," she pleaded, "pray sing us
one of your cheerful ballads."

Sophia looked at Mr. Moggridge. He had always turned over the pages
for her so devotedly. Surely he would make some sign now. Alas! all
his eyes were for Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys.

"I will try," she assented with something dangerously like a sob.

She stepped to the "Collard" at a pace remorselessly timed to the