He nodded satisfaction.  “So I hear.  I don’t know how they managed it, but I accept the fact without question.”

“Do you think it’s always safe to do that?” queried his son Chester, coming up in time to hear.

“Accept facts without question?  What else can you do with facts?”

“But if they should turn out not to be facts?”

“In this case I have the evidence of my ears,” returned the learned man, comfortably, and Chester walked away again, his eyes dancing.

“Nobody can tell you from Lindmann,” he whispered, behind the screen, during an interval.

“That’s good.  Hope the delusion keeps up.  We don’t feel much like Lindmann,” returned Churchill, hastily turning over a pile of music.  “Get your crowd to talking as loud as it can—­then we’re comparatively safe.  Where’s the second violin part of ‘King Manfred’?  Look out, Just—­you hit my elbow twice with your bow-arm last time.  These quarters are a bit—­There you are, Charlotte.  Now take this thing slow, and look to your phrasing.  All ready!”

The costume dances did not come until after supper.  By that time the Churchills and Birches, behind the screen, had settled down to steady work.  During supper a violin, with the ’cello and bass, carried on the music, while Doctor Churchill, Celia and Carolyn Houghton planned a substitute programme for the dances.

In two cases they found the original music familiar; in most of the others it proved not very difficult to adapt other music.  The leaders of the dances were told that whatever happened they were to carry through their parts without showing signs of distress.

“It’s a pretty big bluff,” murmured Jeff, leaning back in his chair and mopping a perspiring brow.  “Phew-w. but it’s hot in here!  I expect to see several of those crazy dances go all to pieces on our account.  That Highland Fling!  Mind you keep up a ripping time on that.  It ought to be piped, not stringed.”

Nevertheless, in spite of a good deal of perturbation on the part of both dancers and orchestra, the entertainment went off well enough to be applauded heartily.  Certain numbers, notably the South Carolina breakdown, the Irish jig, and the minuet of Washington’s time, “brought down the house,” presumably because the music fitted best and bothered the dancers least.

When it was over, the musicians expected to escape before they were found out, thinking the fun Would be the greater if the Agnews did not learn to whom they were indebted until later.  But young Chester Agnew defeated this.  He instructed half-a-dozen of his friends, and as the final strains were coming to a close, these boys laid hold of the wall of palms and pulled it to pieces.  The musicians, laughing and protesting, were shown to the entire company.

A great murmur of surprise was followed by a burst of applause and laughter, in the midst of which Doctor and Mrs. Agnew hurried to the front, followed by their daughters, who had already discovered the truth, but had been warned by their brother to keep quiet about it.