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There is a chorus of "All right, mother!" and as the door closes they all five flock round their father; questioning, demanding, coaxing and wheedling, until, becoming confused amongst them all, he begs to be allowed to sit down and take the questions in turn.

"Have I been to the carpenter's?—Yes, I have, and he is going to look in to-morrow morning to take a look at the room. Have I been to the costumier's?—No, I haven't, for I don't know what you do want and what you don't. Moreover, I think if you can do without anything from there, all the better. I can't say I like the idea of your wearing hired costumes. Anything like swords, sceptres, helmets, or such like you may order, or I will for you; but anything in the way of gowns, I'd rather you bought the stuff for them and have them made. You will then be better able to please your own tastes. Get your mother to let you have Mrs. Needles-and-pins, or whatever her name may be, here for a day or two, and if you like to put down all that you are likely to want, I will undertake that you have the money for it. Now, I can't say more than that, can I?"