“What I say, my love.  I wouldn’t let the captain know that you were so tired as to have to lie down after a game of tennis, for a ten pound note.  Nothing puts a man off a girl so soon as to hear that she’s delicate.”

“Oh, he—­he doesn’t care,” half sobbed Matty.

“Oh, doesn’t he, though?  I never knew anything more like caring than for him to be too shy to come near you.  Things have gone pretty far when a man has to blind his mother by pretending to be taken up with another girl.  I knew the captain was in love, Matty, but I did not suppose he was deep enough to play his cards after that fashion.  You get up now, lovey, and come down, and have a nice hot cup of tea.  It will revive you wonderfully, my pet.”

Matty allowed her mother to coax her off the bed, and to assist her on with her every-day brown holland frock.  She was a good deal comforted and inclined to reconsider the position which had seemed so hopeless half-an-hour ago.

“Only he did neglect me shamefully,” she said, with a little toss of her head.  “And I don’t see why I should take it from him.”

“That’s right, my girl.  You show Captain Bertram you’ve got a spirit of your own.  There’s nothing brings a man to the point like a girl giving him a little bit of sauce.  Next time he speaks to you, you can be as stand-off as you please, Matty.”

“Yes, mother,” said Matty, in a languid tone.

She knew, however, that it was not in her nature to be stand-off to any one, and beneath all the comfort of her mother’s words she could not help doubting if Captain Bertram would care how she behaved to him.

The next morning the Rector’s invitation came for the annual treat, and the hopes of the Bells once more rose high.  On this occasion Mrs. Bell was to accompany her daughters.  Bell would also be present, but, as he was never of much account, this small fact scarcely rested on any one’s mind.  All the town was now in state of ferment.  The Rector’s party was the only thing spoken about, and many were the prognostications with regard to the weather.

The day of festival came at last; the sun arose gloriously, not a cloud was in the sky, all the merry-makers might go in their best, and all hearts might be jubilant.  It was delightful to see Northbury on this day, for so gay were the costumes worn by its inhabitants that as they passed through the narrow old streets they gave the place of their birth a picturesque and even a foreign appearance.

The Rectory was just outside the town, and, of course, all the footsteps were bending thither.  The Rector had invited his guests to assemble at three o’clock, and punctually at a quarter to that hour Miss Peters seated herself in her bay window, armed with a spy-glass to watch the gathering crowd.

Miss Peters was already arrayed in her festive clothes, but she and Mrs. Butler thought it ungenteel not to be, at least, an hour late.  “The Bertrams will be sure to be late,” remarked the good lady to her sister, “and we, too, Martha, will show that we know what’s what.”