of universal astonishment and delight saluted the
scene revealed to view.

At the end of a broad avenue of firs a cool green glade spread its
grassy carpet in the midst of the surrounding plantation. The ground
at the farther end of the glade rose; and here, on the lower slopes,
a bright little spring of water bubbled out between gray old granite
rocks.

Along the right-hand edge of the turf ran a row of tables, arrayed in
spotless white, and covered with refreshments waiting for the guests. On
the opposite side was a band of music, which burst into harmony at the
moment when the curtains were drawn. Looking back through the avenue,
the eye caught a distant glimpse of the lake, where the sunlight played
on the water, and the plumage of the gliding swans flashed softly in
brilliant white. Such was the charming surprise which Julius Delamayn
had arranged for his friends. It was only at moments like these--or when
he and his wife were playing Sonatas in the modest little music-room
at Swanhaven--that Lord Holchester's eldest son was really happy.
He secretly groaned over the duties which his position as a landed
gentleman imposed upon him; and he suffered under some of the highest
privileges of his rank and station as under social martyrdom in its
cruelest form.

"We'll dine first," said Julius, "and dance afterward. There is the
programme!"

He led the way to the tables, with the two ladies nearest to
him--utterly careless whether they were or were not among the ladies of
the highest rank then present. To Lady Lundie's astonishment he took the
first seat he came to, without appearing to care what place he occupied
at his own feast. The guests, following his example, sat where they
pleased, reckless of precedents and dignities. Mrs. Delamayn, feeling
a special interest in a young lady who was shortly to be a bride, took
Blanche's arm. Lady Lundie attached herself resolutely to her hostess
on the other side. The three sat together. Mrs. Delamayn did her best to
encourage Blanche to talk, and Blanche did her best to meet the advances
made to her. The experiment succeeded but poorly on either side. Mrs.
Delamayn gave it up in despair, and turned to Lady Lundie, with a
strong suspicion that some unpleasant subject of reflection was preying
privately on the bride's mind. The conclusion was soundly drawn.
Blanche's little outbreak of temper with her friend on the terrace, and
Blanche's present deficiency of gayety and spiri