“And so now,” said Henry, “we appear to be sunk. That’s Charing Cross Station. We thought we would take you to a play to-night, Robin.”

“And we can dance afterwards,” said Frid. “Colin’s in love with a girl in the play so I expect he’ll want her to come whizzing on with us which is rather a bore. Have you asked Mary to come, Henry?”

“No,” said Henry. “We’ve only got five seats and the twins both want to come and anyway I want to dance with Robin, and Colin’s actress isn’t coming.”

“Well, Stephen could take Mary off your hands.”

“He doesn’t like her.”

“Mary is Henry’s girl,” explained Frid. “Only vaguely, though.”

“Well, she’s quite nice really,” said Henry.

“Charming, darling,” said Frid handsomely.

Roberta suddenly felt rather desolate. She stared out of the window and only half-listened to Henry who seemed to think he ought to point out places of interest.

“This is Trafalgar Square,” said Henry. “Isn’t that thing in the middle too monstrous? Lions, you see, at each corner, but of course you’ve met them in photographs.”

“That building over there is the Tate Gallery,” said Frid.

“She means the National Gallery, Robin. I suppose you will want to see one or two sights, won’t you?”

“Well, I suppose I ought to.”

“Patch and Mike are at home for the holidays,” said Frid. “It will be good for them to take Robin to some sights.”

“Perhaps I could look some out for myself,” Roberta suggested with diffidence.

“You’ll find it difficult to begin,” Henry told her. “There’s something so cold-blooded about girding up your loins and going out to find a sight. I’ll come to one occasionally if you like. It may not be so bad once the plunge is taken. We are getting a very public-spirited family, Robin. The twins and I are territorials. I can’t tell you how much we dislike it but we stiffened our upper lips and bit on the bullets and when the war comes we know what we have to do. In the meantime, of course, I’ve got to get a job, now we’re sunk.”

“We’re not definitely sunk until Uncle G. has spoken,” Frid pointed out.

“Uncle G.!” Robin exclaimed. “I’d almost forgotten about him. He’s always sounded like a myth.”

“It’s to be hoped he doesn’t behave like one,” said Henry. “He’s coming to see us to-morrow. Daddy has sent him an SOS. I can’t tell you how awful he is.”

“Aunt V. is worse,” said Frid gloomily. “Let’s face it, Aunt V. is worse. And they’re both coming in order to go into a huddle with Daddy and Mummy about finance. We hope to sting Uncle G. for two thousand.”

“It’ll all come to Daddy when they’re dead, you see, Robin. They’ve no young of their own.”

“I thought,” said Roberta, “that they were separated.”

“Oh, they’re always flying apart and coming together again,” said Frid. “They’re together at the moment. Aunt V. has taken up witchcraft.”