Coffee had been handed round. The men who sauntered upstairs for a cup massed themselves together for company at one end of the room. If separate from their kind, they seemed forlorn and uneasy, and watched an opportunity to escape. One or two of the oldest, including Major Jones, and a Mr. Batley, who was young, but a newcomer and unacquainted with the ways of the house, advanced into what seemed to be looked on as the women's end.
Miss Prudence Semaphore moved her skirts slightly, so as to give a chance to anyone wishing to sit beside her. No one came. Pretty Miss Fastleigh and her sister, with an unconsciousness born of experience, had thoughtfully taken places as near the men as possible. Soon they were deep in conversation with the more courageous of the advanced guard.
Coffee over, the greater number of the men made a stampede. Some were studying for examinations and could not spare time. More sat in each other's rooms drinking whisky and soda, others again turned out for a game of billiards.
A whist party was formed by Miss Semaphore, her sister, Major Jones and Mr.
