ses, and boats, was to be made bright
and beautiful for the occasion. Scores of workmen were about the
place through the three first weeks of July. The world at large did
not at all know why the Duke was doing so unwonted a thing,--why
he should undertake so new a trouble. But Lady Glencora knew, and
Madame Goesler shrewdly guessed, the riddle. When Madame Goesler's
unexpected refusal had reached his Grace, he felt that he must either
accept the lady's refusal, or persevere. After a day's consideration,
he resolved that he would accept it. The top brick of the chimney was
very desirable; but perhaps it might be well that he should endeavour
to live without it. Then, accepting this refusal, he must either
stand his ground and bear the blow,--or he must run away to that
villa at Como, or elsewhere. The running away seemed to him at first
to be the better, or at least the more pleasant, course; but at last
he determined that he would stand his ground and bear the blow.
Therefore he gave his garden party at The Horns.

Who was to be invited? Before the first week in July was over, many
a bosom in London was fluttering with anxiety on that subject. The
Duke, in giving his short word of instruction to Lady Glencora,
made her understand that he would wish her to be particular in her
invitations. Her Royal Highness the Princess, and his Royal Highness
the Prince, had both been so gracious as to say that they would
honour his fete. The Duke himself had made out a short list, with not
more than a dozen names. Lady Glencora was employed to select the
real crowd,--the five hundred out of the ten thousand who were to
be blessed. On the Duke's own private list was the name of Madame
Goesler. Lady Glencora understood it all. When Madame Goesler got her
card, she thought that she understood it too. And she thought also
that the Duke was behaving in a gallant way.

There was, no doubt, much difficulty about the invitations, and a
considerable amount of ill-will was created. And they who considered
themselves entitled to be asked, and were not asked, were full of
wrath against their more fortunate friends, instead of being angry
with the Duke or with Lady Glencora, who had neglected them. It was
soon known that Lady Glencora was the real dispenser of the favours,
and I fancy that her ladyship was tired of her task before it was
completed. The party was to take place on Wednesday, the 27th of
July, and before the day had come, men and w