"We must amuse the young folks, and it isn't a grand affair. If the
children meet together they may as well dance as play games."

"Daddikins, how nasty you are!" exclaimed Ulyth, pursuing him to
administer chastisement in the shape of smacking kisses. "You know
you're looking forward to it quite as much as we are."

"That I deny _in toto_," groaned her father as he escaped to his
snuggery, only to find it arranged as a dressing-room.

Ulyth wore white for the great occasion, with her best Venetian beads;
and Rona had a palest sea-green gauzy voile, with fine stockings and
satin shoes to match. Dorothy was a bewitching little vision in pink,
and Peter a cherub in black velvet. Oswald, having reached the stage of
real gentleman's evening-dress, required the whole family to assist him
in the due arrangement of his tie, over which he was more than usually
particular. Ulyth even suspected him of having tried to shave, though he
denied the accusation fiercely.

It is always a solemn occasion waiting in the drawing-room listening for
the first peal of the bell announcing visitors. Mrs. Stanton was giving
a last touch to the flowers, Ulyth sat wielding her new fan (a Christmas
present), Oswald was buttoning his gloves. Dorothy, too excited to
stand still for a moment, flitted about like a pink fairy.

"I'm to stop up half an hour later than Peter, Rona; do you hear that?"
she chattered. "Oh, I do hope the Prestons will arrive first of anybody!
I want to dance with Willie. Father let me have a cracker just now, and
it's got a whistle inside it. I wish I had a pocket. Where shall I put
it to keep it safe? Oh, I know--inside that vase!"

As she spoke, Dorothy jumped lightly on to the seat of the cosy corner
that abutted on the fireplace, and reached upwards to drop her whistle
inside the ornament. In her excitement she slipped, tried to save
herself, lost her footing, and fell sideways over the curb on to the
hearth. Her thin, flimsy dress was within half an inch of the fire, but
at that instant Rona, who was standing by, clutched her and pulled her
forwards. It all happened in three seconds. She was safe before her
father had time to run across the room. The family stared aghast.

"Whew! That was a near shave!" gasped Oswald.

Dorothy, too much surprised and frightened to cry, was clinging to her
mother. Mr. Stanton, acting on the spur of the moment, rushed to the
telephone to try if any ironmonger's shop in the town was