of a new carpet and new curtains; prints have come to
light upon the walls, chairs and tables have taken heart, and now wear
an honest gloss upon their legs and faces; ornaments, which had hitherto
been too dirty to be ornamental, now show themselves in their real
colours. Outside the house, also, wonderful things have come to pass;
the rocking doorstep is at rest, and its fellow has been adjusted to a
proper level; _ever_-greens have taken the place of the old _never_-
greens; knocker and door handle are not ashamed to show their native
brass; the missing rails have returned to their duty in the ranks. The
whole establishment, including its master, has emerged out of a state of
foggy dilapidation. Old Molly Gilders has retired into the interior,
and given place above stairs to a dapper damsel. As for the ghosts,
they could not be expected to remain under such _dispiriting_
circumstances, and have had the good sense to resort to some more
congenial dwelling.

While gossip on this unlooked-for transformation was still flying in hot
haste about Hopeworth and the neighbourhood, the families both at "The
Firs" and "The Shrubbery" were greatly astonished one morning by an
invitation to spend an evening at Mr Tankardew's.

"Well," said Mr Rothwell, "I suppose it won't do to decline; the old
gentleman means it, no doubt, as an attention, and it would not be
politic to vex him."

"I am sure, my dear," said his wife, "_I_ can't think of going. I shall
be bored to death; you must make my excuses and accept the invitation
for the girls. I don't suppose Mark will care to go; the old man seems
to have a spite against him--I can't tell why."

"I'll go," interposed Mark, "if it be only to see the fun. I'll be on
my good behaviour. I'll call for tea and toast-and-water at regular
intervals all through the evening, and then the old gentleman will be
sure to put me down for something handsome in his will."

"You'd better take some music with you," said his mother, turning to her
eldest daughter; "Mr Tankardew has got his new piano on purpose, I
suppose."

"Ay, do," cried Mark; "take something lively, and you'll fetch out the
old spiders and daddy-long-legs which have been sent into the corners
like naughty boys, and they'll come out by millions and dance for us."

So it was settled that the invitation should be accepted. The surprise
at "The Shrubbery" was of a more agreeable kind. Mrs Franklin and her
daughter had lear