The War-Workers. E. M. Delafield

less desultory lounging over the fire. Miss Delmege wrote a number of letters and Tony darned stockings. Grace Jones read "Daniel Deronda" to herself.

      Lunch was protracted, and Mrs. Bullivant, to mark the day, exerted herself and made some rather smoked coffee, which she brought to the sitting-room triumphantly.

      "Isn't there going to be any music this afternoon?" she inquired.

      Every one declared that music was the very thing for such an afternoon, but no one appeared very willing to provide it.

      "Do sing, somebody," implored Miss Henderson. "Plumtree?"

      Miss Plumtree had a beautiful deep voice, utterly untrained and consequently unspoilt. She stood up willingly enough and sang all the songs that she was asked for. The taste of the Hostel was definite in songs. "A Perfect Day" and "The Rosary" were listened to in the absolute silence of appreciation, and then some one asked for a selection from the latest musical comedy.