nd all instinctively turned from their host as he passed
them by. They felt they had been lectured, and they were more put out
than Richard himself. They did not know if they might not be lectured
again. This vulgar man, of what might he not be capable?

Richard's shrewd sense comprehended in an instant all the difficulties
of his position; but he walked on deliberately and directly towards Mrs.
M'Catchley, who was standing near the grand marquee with the Pompleys
and the Dean's lady. As these personages saw him make thus boldly
towards them, there was a flutter. "Hang the fellow!" said the Colonel,
intrenching himself in his stock, "he is coming here. Low and
shocking,--what shall we do? Let us stroll on."

But Richard threw himself in the way of the retreat. "Mrs. M'Catchley,"
said he very gravely, and offering her his arm, "allow me three words
with you."

The poor widow looked very much discomposed. Mrs. Pompley pulled her by
the sleeve. Richard still stood gazing into her face, with his arm
extended. She hesitated a minute, and then took the arm.

"Monstrous impudent!" cried the Colonel.

"Let Mrs. M'Catchley alone, my dear," responded Mrs. Pompley; "_she_
will know how to give him a lesson!"

"Madam," said Richard, as soon as he and his companion were out of
hearing, "I rely on you to do me a favor."

"On me?"

"On you, and you alone. You have influence with all those people, and a
word from you will effect what I desire. Mrs. M'Catchley," added
Richard, with a solemnity that was actually imposing, "I flatter myself
that you have some friendship for me, which is more than I can say of
any other in these grounds--will you do me this favor, ay or no?"

"What is it, Mr. Avenel?" asked Mrs. M'Catchley, much disturbed, and
somewhat softened--for she was by no means a woman without feeling;
indeed, she considered herself nervous.

"Get all your friends--all the company in short--to come back into the
tent for refreshments--for any thing. I want to say a few words to
them."

"Bless me! Mr. Avenel--a few words!" cried the widow, "but that's just
what they are all afraid of! You must pardon me, but you really can't
ask people to a _dejeune dansant_, and then--scold 'em!"

"I'm not going to scold them," said Mr. Avenel, very seriously--"upon my
honor, I'm not! I'm going to make all right, and I even hope afterwards
that the dancing may go on--and that you will honor me again with your
hand. I leave you to you