Lady Glencora behaved pretty by telling the Duchess all about her pet pheasants; Mrs Conway Sparkes told ill-natured tales of some one to Miss Euphemia Palliser; one of the Duchess's daughters walked off to a distant piano with an admiring friend and touched a few notes; while Iphigenia Palliser boldly took up a book, and placed herself at a table.

Alice, who was sitting opposite to Lady Glencora, began to speculate whether she might do the same; but her courage failed her, and she sat on, telling herself that she was out of her element.
"Alice Vavasor," said Lady Glencora after a while, suddenly, and in a somewhat loud voice, "can you play billiards ?" "No," said Alice, rather startled.
"Then you shall learn to-night, and if nobody else will teach you, you shall be my pupil." Whereupon Lady Glencora rang the bell and ordered that the billiard-table might be got ready.

"You'll play, Duchess, of course," said Lady Glencora.
"It is so nice and warm, that I think I will," said the Duchess; but as she spoke she looked suspiciously to that part of the room where Mrs Conway Sparkes was sitting.
"Let us all play," said Mrs Conway Sparkes, "and then it will be nicer,--and perhaps warmer, too." The gentlemen joined them just as they were settling themselves round the table, and as many of them stayed there, the billiard-room became full.

Alice had first a cue put into her hand, and making nothing of that was permitted to play with a mace.

The duty of instructing her devolved on Jeffrey Palliser, and the next hour passed pleasantly;--not so pleasantly, she thought afterwards, as did some of those hours in Switzerland when her cousins were with her.