“You can help me not in a small, but in a big way, and if you grant me this help, you will save my mother, and—­yes—­and Catherine.”

“I love Catherine,” said Beatrice.

“I know it—­you would like to save her.”

“Certainly; but I did not know she was in peril.”

“Don’t whisper it, but she is.  You can put things straight for her.  May I talk to you?  May I tell you what I mean?”

“You look very solemn, and this is a day of pleasure.  Must you talk to me to-day?”

“I won’t talk of anything to worry you today.  But I may some time?”

“I suppose you may.  At least it is difficult to reply in the negative to any one who wants my help.”

“That is all I need you to say.  You will understand after I have spoken.  May I come to see you to-morrow?”

“Yes, you may come to-morrow.  I shall be at home in the morning.”

“Beatrice,” said a voice, “Bee—­Trixie—­I do think it’s unkind to cut an old friend.”

Beatrice turned.

Mrs. Bell, puffed and hot, accompanied by Matty, who was also a little blown, and by the younger girls, looking very cross, had been chasing Captain Bertram and Miss Meadowsweet from one lawn to another.  Mrs. Bell, after receiving a somewhat severe snubbing from Mrs. Gorman Stanley, had just retired into the marquee to refresh herself with strawberry ices, when Sophy, laying a hand on her mother’s shoulder, informed her in a loud whisper that Captain Bertram and Bee Meadowsweet had gone down the steps of the terrace to the tennis lawn side by side.

“We’ll make after them!” exclaimed the good lady.  “Girls, don’t finish your ices; come quick.”

Mrs. Bell took her eldest daughter’s hand, and rushed out of the tent.  Sophy and Alice stayed behind to have one parting spoonful each of their delicious ices.  Then the whole family went helter-skelter down the five sacred steps and on to the lawn.  They saw the objects of their desire vanishing through a gap in the hedge into a distant field.  They must pursue, they must go hotly to work.  Mrs. Bell panted and puffed, and Matty stopped once to breathe hard.

“Courage, child,” said the mother.  “We’ll soon be up with them.  I’m not the woman to leave an innocent young man alone with that siren.”

“Mother!  You call Beatrice a siren?”

“Well, and what is she, Matty, when she takes your lawful sweetheart away before your very eyes?  But here, we’re in hailing distance, now, and I’ll shout.  Beatrice—­Bee—­Trixie!”

Beatrice turned.  She came up at once to Mrs. Bell, took her hand, and asked all four why they had run so fast after her.

“For I was coming back at once,” she said, in a naive tone.  “Captain Bertram was kind enough to walk with me to the archery field.  Then I was coming to arrange some tennis sets.”

“My girls have had no tennis yet to-day, Beatrice,” said Mrs. Bell, fixing her eyes solemnly on Miss Meadowsweet.  “And they are all partial to it, more especially Matty.  You’re a devotee to tennis too, aren’t you, Captain Bertram?”