Uncle Cedric's mourners applaud early in the final chord of my new song, laughter still fresh in their throats. I'm confident that the piece will be a fine new addition to my latest revue. At this time I notice that Mignonette is no longer at my side but near the window. Even through her well-rehearsed poise I sense an uneasiness in her. Something stirs within, which I am most curious to discover. Every party needs a good adventure, and Mignonette is mine. Stealing a white camellia from a vase on the refreshment table, I sidle up beside her and hold the flower before her. Bouncing back suddenly to rare form, Mignonette draws close in time for a dance. Giles is now at the piano, and he is joined by a cellist, a violinist, and a clarinetist. Our feet do a little work, but the music of the foxtrot carries us the rest of the way.