ommy flushed up to the roots of his hair.
He came forward.

"Ha!" said the old gentleman, surveying him apoplectically. "So you're
my nephew, are you? Not much to look at--but you've done good work, it
seems. Your mother must have brought you up well after all. Shall we
let bygones be bygones, eh? You're my heir, you know; and in future I
propose to make you an allowance--and you can look upon Chalmers Park as
your home."

"Thank you, sir, it's awfully decent of you."

"Where's this young lady I've been hearing such a lot about?"

Tommy introduced Tuppence.

"Ha!" said Sir William, eyeing her. "Girls aren't what they used to be
in my young days."

"Yes, they are," said Tuppence. "Their clothes are different, perhaps,
but they themselves are just the same."

"Well, perhaps you're right. Minxes then--minxes now!"

"That's it," said Tuppence. "I'm a frightful minx myself."

"I believe you," said the old gentleman, chuckling, and pinched her ear
in high good-humour. Most young women were terrified of the "old bear,"
as they termed him. Tuppence's pertness delighted the old misogynist.

Then came the timid archdeacon, a little bewildered by the company in
which he found himself, glad that his daughter was considered to have
distinguished herself, but unable to help glancing at her from time
to time with nervous apprehension. But Tuppence behaved admirably. She
forbore to cross her legs, set a guard upon her tongue, and steadfastly
refused to smoke.

Dr. Hall came next, and he was followed by the American Ambassador.

"We might as well sit down," said Julius, when he had introduced all his
guests to each other. "Tuppence, will you----"

He indicated the place of honour with a wave of his hand.

But Tuppence shook her head.

"No--that's Jane's place! When one thinks of how she's held out all
these years, she ought to be made the queen of the feast to-night."

Julius flung her a grateful glance, and Jane came forward shyly to the
allotted seat. Beautiful as she had seemed before, it was as nothing to
the loveliness that now went fully adorned. Tuppence had performed her
part faithfully. The model gown supplied by a famous dressmaker had been
entitled "A tiger lily." It was all golds and reds and browns, and out
of it rose the pure column of the girl's white throat, and the bronze
masses of hair that crowned her lovely head. There was admiration in
every eye, as she took her seat.

Soon the supper party was