ers, sisters, cousins, and aunts were all mixed up in one glorious
crowd, with their boys mounting guard over them and introducing them
right and left to all the other boys within call.

Mr and Mrs Herapath, like their son, were up to the business, and
quietly led the way through the throng towards the hall where the
speeches were to be delivered and where, as they knew by experience, it
was better to look for a seat too early than too late.

Arthur and Dig, however, were by no means disposed to waste Daisy in so
unprofitable an occupation, and therefore haled her off to their study.
Some of us, who know the young lady, are able to excuse the pride with
which these two gallant tenders towed their prize into port--for as Dig
shared Arthur's study, of course he shared his sister on this occasion.
It wanted a very few dropping and facetious introductions on the way,
such as, "Daisy, you know, my sister," or "What cheer, Sherry?--ever
hear of Chuckey?" or, "No good, Maple, my boy, bespoke!" to set the
rumour going that Daisy Herapath, Marky's "spoon," was come, and was "on
show" in Herapath's study.

To her credit be it said, the young lady bore her ordeal with exemplary
patience and good-humour. She liked everything she saw. She admired
the study so much. What a pretty look-out on the old square--what a
luxurious lunch--ah! Arthur had not forgotten her weakness for
marmalade--and so on.

The boys voted her a brick; and Arthur went so far as to say he hoped
she and Marky would fix it up in time for her to come and be dame of the
house before he left.

All this time--would you believe it?--the poor Master of the Shell was
sitting in his study, very bashful, and wondering whether he would get a
chance of speaking to Daisy during the day at all. She had been
spirited away from under his very eyes, in the most truculent manner, by
her graceless brother; and it seemed very doubtful whether he would be
allowed--

Mrs Hastings at this moment knocked at the door and handed in a dainty
little note addressed to "Mark Railsford, Esquire," from the doctor's
niece.

"Dear Mr Railsford," wrote Miss Violet, "will you and Miss Herapath
join us at lunch before the speeches? I should so like to make her
acquaintance.

"Yours truly,--

"Violet Ponsford."

So Railsford, armed with this authority, sallied forth boldly to
recapture his Daisy. He thought he knew where to find her, and was not
mistaken. The little impromptu l