able to behave like a gentleman in his mother's
house when it was necessary for him to do so, and he quite appreciated
the fact of his being an important personage in the Miller family.

It was to celebrate the coming of age of this interesting young gentleman
that Mr. and Mrs. Miller had settled to give a monster entertainment to
several hundreds of their fellow-creatures.

The proceedings were to include a variety of instructive and amusing
pastimes, and were to last pretty nearly all day. There was to be a
country flower-show in a big tent on the lawn; that was pure business,
and concerned the farmers as much as the gentry. There were also to be
athletic sports in a field for the active young men, lawn-tennis for the
active young women, an amateur polo match got up by the energy and pluck
of Miss Beatrice and her uncle Tom; a "cold collation" in a second tent
to be going on all the afternoon; the whole to be finished up with a
dance in the large drawing room, for a select few, after sunset.

The programme, in all conscience, was varied enough; and the day broke
hopefully, after the wild storm of the previous night, bright and cool
and sunny, with every prospect of being perfectly fine.

Beatrice, happy in the possession of her lover, was full of life and
energy; she threw herself into all the preparations of the _fete_ with
her whole heart. Herbert, who came over from Lutterton at an early hour,
followed her about like a dog, obeying her orders implicitly, but
impeding her proceedings considerably by a constant under-current of
love-making, by which he strove to vary and enliven the operation of
sticking standard flags into the garden borders, and nailing up wreaths
of paper roses inside the tent.

Mrs. Miller, having consented to the engagement, like a sensible woman,
was resolved to make the best of it, and was, if not cordial, at least
pleasantly civil to her future son-in-law. She had given over Beatrice
as a bad job; she had resolved to find suitable matches for Guy and for
Geraldine.

By one o'clock the company was actually beginning to arrive, the small
fry of the neighbourhood being, of course, the first to appear. By-and-by
came the rank and fashion of Meadowshire, and by three o'clock the
gardens were crowded.

It was a brilliant scene; there was the gaily-dressed crowd going in and
out of the tents, groups of elderly people sitting talking under the
trees, lawn-tennis players at one end of the gard