to her husband, looking proudly at her two daughters. "That blue does
set 'em off, to be sure!"

"La!" said Bella with a giggle, "I feel that nervous I know I shall
break down. I'm all of a twitter."

"Well, it's no matter how you _play_ as long as you look well," said
Mrs Greenways; "with Charlie making all that noise on the drum, you
only hear the piano now and again. But where's Lilac!" she added.
"It's more than time we started."

Lilac had been ready long ago, and waiting for her cousins, but just
before they came downstairs she had caught sight of Peter looking into
the room from the garden, and making mysterious signs to her to come
out. When she appeared he held towards her a bunch of small red and
white chrysanthemums. "Here's a posy for you," he said. "Stick it in
your front. They're a bit frost-bitten, but they're better than
nothing."

Lilac took the flowers joyfully; after all she was not to be quite
unadorned at the concert.

"You ain't got a new frock," he continued, looking at her seriously when
she had fastened them in her dress. "You look nice, though."

"Ain't you coming?" asked Lilac. She felt that she should miss Peter's
friendly face when she sang, and that she should like him to hear her.

"Presently," he said. "Got summat to see to first."

When the party reached the school-house it was already late. The
Greenways were always late on such occasions. The room was full, and
Mr Martin, the curate, who had the arrangement of it all, was bustling
about with a programme in his hand, finding seats for the audience,
greeting acquaintances, and rushing into the inner room at intervals to
see if the performers had arrived.

"All here?" he said. "Then we'd better begin. Drum and fife band!"

The band, grinning with embarrassment and pleasure, stumbled up the
rickety steps on to the platform. The sounds of their instruments and
then the clapping and stamping of the audience were plainly heard in the
green room, which had only a curtain across the doorway.

"Lor'!" said Bella, pulling it a little on one side and peeping through
at the audience, "there _is_ a lot of people! Packed just as close as
herrings. There's a whole row from the Rectory. How I do palpitate, to
be sure! I wish Charlie was here!"

Mr Buckle soon arrived with vexation on his brow. No sign of Busby!
He was down twice in the programme, and there was hardly a chance he
would turn up. It was too bad of Busby