seem to thwart her. Violet thought it best to laugh,
and talk of something else.

'Then I depend on you for the cream of our party,' said Miss Gardner,
taking leave.

'I cannot tell whether Captain Martindale can come,' said Violet,
somewhat bewildered by the conversation.

'Is that girl a nonentity, or is she a deep genius?' said Jane to
herself as she walked home. 'I cannot make her out. Now for the trial
of power! If Theodora Martindale yields to the Fotheringhams now, and
deserts Georgina, it will be a confirmation of all the absurd reports.
As long as I have it to say the Martindale family are as intimate as
ever, I have an answer for Lady Fotheringham, and if Mark is smitten
with her, so much the better. I hope Percy Fotheringham may be properly
rewarded for his presumption and ill-nature. The sooner they quarrel the
better. I will send Theodora a note to put her on her mettle.'

The note arrived while Percy was spending the evening in Cadogan-place,
and Theodora talking so happily that she grudged the interruption of
opening and reading it.

'DEAREST THEODORA,--One line further to secure you, though I told Mrs.
Martindale of our plans. She would make no promises, but we reckon on
your independence of action, at least. "Should auld acquaintance be
forgot?"

'Yours affectionately,

'J. GARDNER.

'P.S.--Mrs. Martindale looked very well. I hope she will have no
recurrence of faintings.'

'From Jane Gardner,' said Theodora; 'only to put me in mind of the
picnic. Will you go, Arthur?'

'I never was more glad to be on her Majesty's service. What an
abominable bore it would be!'

'That is what gentlemen always say of picnics,' said Theodora.

'Not at all,' said Percy. 'A real country party of merry happy people,
knowing each other well, and full of genuine honest glee, is one of the
most enjoyable things that can be.'

'That it is!' cried Violet. 'There was the day we went up Skiddaw, with
no one but our cousins and Mr. Fanshawe, and dined on the mountain in
sight of the valley of St. John; and the rain came on, and Mr. Fanshawe
sat all the time holding an umbrella over Annette and the pigeon-pie.'

'That was worth doing,' said Percy; 'but for a parcel of fine ladies and
gentlemen to carry the airs and graces, follies and competitions, born
in ball-rooms and nursed in soirees, out into pure country air and
daylight, is an insult to the green fields and woods.'

'That is a speech in character o