“That’s Penbeacon ling.  I know that red tint in the mauve,” said Geraldine; “I’ll give you half-a-crown, if your decorations can spare that spiring spray!” And she put it in her bosom, after touching it with her lips.  “You have a bower for the Lady of the Lake,” she added.

“I’m afraid I’m only Roderick Dhu’s mother,” laughed Lady Merrifield; “but I shall have more ladies when the masque is done.  Now I have only Mysie.”

“And oh!” cried Mysie, “please set up the nurse in the nursery gardens right.  Wilfred knocked her over, and she won’t stand right for me.”

“Perverse woman.  There!  No, I shall not buy anything now, I shall wait for Primrose and the refuse.  How pretty it does all look!  Ah, Mr. Brownlow,” as she shook hands with the curate.

“I left my brother John at your house,” he said; “I persuaded him to run down this morning with my mother and see our doings, and he was glad of the opportunity of looking in upon the Vicar.”

“How very kind of him.  We were wishing to know what he thought!”

“No doubt he will be here presently.  My mother is at the masque.  There was not a seat for us, so I took him down to St. Andrew’s Rock.”

“Not a seat!  The five-shilling seats?”

“Not the fraction of one.  Numbers standing outside!  Pity there can’t be a second performance.”

“Four hundred seats!  That’s a hundred pounds!  We shall beat the School-board yet!”

So, with the General politely expressing that there was no saying what Rockquay owed to the hearty co-operation of such birds of passage as herself and her brothers, she travelled on to the charity stall, which Miss Mohun had quaintly dressed in the likeness of an old-fashioned school, with big alphabet and samplers, flourished copies, and a stuffed figure of a ‘cont-rare-y’ naughty boy, with a magnificent fool’s cap.  She herself sat behind it, the very image of the Shenstone school-mistress, with wide white cap, black poke-bonnet, crossed kerchief, red cloak, and formidable rod; and her myrmidons were in costume to match.  It was very attractive, and took every one by surprise, but Geraldine had had enough by this time, and listened to Miss Mohun’s invitation and entreaty that she would preside over tea-cups for the weary, in the drawing-room.  The privacy of the houses had been secured by ropes extending from the stalls to the rails of the garden, and Geraldine was conducted by her two generals to the verandah, where they installed her, and lingered, as was usual with her squires, always won by her spirited talk, till messages came to each of them from below that some grandee was come, who must be talked to and entertained.

Already, however, Armine Brownlow had brought up his brother, the doctor-—John or Jock, an old friend-—over, first Clement’s district and then his bed.

“Well, Mrs. Grinstead, I can compliment you much on your brother.  He is very materially better, and his heart is recovering tone.”