akin to horror.

"It didn't last long," murmured Bindle regretfully, "but it was
top-'ole (your words, sir) while it did. I wonder 'oo's 'oldin'
Reggie's 'ead this mornin'?" and he chuckled gleefully.

CHAPTER XIV

MR. HEARTY GIVES A PARTY

I

"I'm surprised at 'Earty," remarked Bindle to Millie one Friday evening
as they walked across Putney Bridge on the way to meet Charlie Dixon.
"Fancy 'im givin' a party! It'll be all 'ymns an' misery, wi' some
oranges thrown in to give it the right smell. There won't be no
Kiss-in-the-ring an' Postman's-knock for the likes o' you an' me,
Millikins."

Millie blushed. She had no illusions as to the nature of the
festivity: she knew who were to be invited.

"I'm glad you're coming, Uncle Joe," she cried, dancing along beside
him. "It would be hateful without you."

"Well, o' course I am a bit of an attraction," replied Bindle. "Lord!
how the ladies fight for me in the kissin' games!"

It was rarely that Mr. Hearty unbent to the extent of entertaining. He
was usually content with the mild pleasures that the chapel provided,
in the shape of teas, the annual bazaar, and occasional
lantern-lectures bearing such titles as "Jerusalem Revisited," "The
Bible in the East," "A Christian Abroad," delivered by enthusiastic but
prosy amateurs and illustrated by hired lantern-slides.

One day, however, Mr. Hearty came to the determination that it was
quite compatible with his beliefs to give a party. Not one of the
stupid gatherings where the gramophone vied with round-games, and
round-games with music-hall songs; but one where the spirit of revelry
would be chastened by Christian sobriety. Mr. Hearty did not object to
music as music, and there were certain songs, such as "The Village
Blacksmith" and "The Chorister" that in his opinion were calculated to
exercise a beneficial effect upon those who heard them.

When Mr. Hearty had at length come to his momentous decision, he was
faced with the problem of the Bindles. He felt that as a
fellow-chapel-goer he could not very well omit Mrs. Bindle from the
list of the invited; but Bindle would be impossible where Mr. Sopley,
the pastor of the chapel, was to be an honoured guest.

One evening at supper he had, as he thought with consummate tact,
broached the matter to his family.

"Not have Joe?" wheezed Mrs. Hearty.

"Not ask Uncle Joe?" Millie had exclaimed in a tone that her father
thought scarcely filial.

"He i