r Hyde wanted very much to laugh, but the real distress in Nancy's
face touched him. He patted her consolingly.

"Can't I do something? Can't Webb and I round 'em up at the point of a
gun?"

"N-no, it's too late! We've just got to act as though the--the garden
was _full_ and make the best of it! I wanted it to be _such_ a
success. I wanted it to be a party that Nonie 'd never forget. And I
wanted everyone to see Aunt Milly! Oh, why, oh, _why_ doesn't
something happen!" For Nancy had suddenly remembered the huge pails of
ice-cream and the cake that was "like as a twin to the one my mother
made for the Gov'nor."

At that moment the loud whirring of an automobile caught their
attention. Nancy, red-eyed, peeped from behind their bush.

"It's at our gate!" she cried. "_Peter_----" she clutched his arm.
From the tonneau a tall man was alighting. To Nancy there was
something vaguely familiar in the sharp-featured, clean-shaven face and
in the mass of wavy white hair that fringed his coat collar.

"_Peter, it's--it's--Theodore Hoffman!_"

CHAPTER XIX

THE MASTER

A bolt from the cloudless blue could not have startled the little
gathering on the lawn more than did the arrival of the distinguished
stranger at the gate of Happy House. Moreover, French Mercedes cars
did not often pass through North Hero; this was purple and cream color
and the chauffeur wore purple livery. And the man who walked up the
path had a bearing that distinctly set him apart from ordinary mortals.

Nancy, in a panic, wanted the earth to swallow her, but as the earth
was very solid, she had no choice but to drag herself forward. She
had, only a moment before, prayed that something would happen--and
something had!

Peter Hyde had rushed forward to greet the newcomer and this had given
Nancy a moment to rally her scattered wits. She was too busy
whispering an explanation to Miss Sabrina to notice how friendly had
been the master's greeting to Peter.

"Miss Leavitt, may I present Mr. Theodore Hoffman--and Miss Anne
Leavitt."

Peter's voice was as steady as though he was introducing any John
Smith; there was even a twinkle in his eye, as it caught Nancy's
glance, that seemed to say: "I have brought the master to you--now!"

There was a gentleness in the keen, deep-set eyes, a friendliness in
the musical voice of the master that suddenly quieted Nancy's
fluttering nerves. Time and again, at the very thought of this
meeting