But he went to the front to meet and greet his guests.

A couple of hours later, while the trio at the lodge were at supper, the

servant brought in two notes.

"One for me, and one for you, Mr. Falconer. And from the house! Do you

see the coronet on the envelope? I wonder what it is? Perhaps a polite

intimation that we are to clear out!" said Nell.

"Or an equally polite request that we will keep off the grass," said

Dick. "Do you know how to find out what's in that envelope, Nell?"

"No," she said, holding it up to the light.

"By opening it, my brainless one!"

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"Mr. Falconer, you are nearer him than I am; will you oblige me by

kicking him? Oh, Dick! It's an invitation to the dance to-morrow--for

you and me."

"And for me," said Falconer. "And will I be so very kind as to bring my

violin?"

"Very kind of 'em," said Dick. "I should like it very much," as he

lifted his tankard, "but there won't be any dancing for me to-morrow

night, unless I indulge in a hornpipe in the engine room. I'm going to

stick there on guard right away from the beginning to the end of the

hop. I should never forgive myself if anything went wrong with those

blessed lights. But you and Falconer can go and foot it to your heart's

content."

"Quite impossible," said Nell emphatically. "I haven't a dress. So that

settles me. Besides, Mrs. Hawksley, the housekeeper, has been kind

enough to ask me to go into the gallery and look on, and I accepted

gratefully."

"Among the servants?" said Dick, rather dubiously.

"Why not?" said Nell, stoutly. "I don't in the least mind. I shall enjoy

looking down--for the first time in my life--upon Mr. Falconer."

Falconer smiled and shook his head.

"I haven't a dress suit, and I can't dance, Miss Lorton; and if I had

and could, I shouldn't go without you. But I'd like to go and play. I

owe these people a heavy debt for permitting me, through you, to spend

the happiest days of my life--yes, I'll go and play. They won't mind my

old velvet jacket, I'm sure."

"Quite the correct thing, my boy," said Dick. "You look no end of a

musical swell in it; a Paderewski and Sarasati rolled into one. And to

tell you the truth, I'm relieved to think you're disposed of; for I was

afraid you'd offer to keep me company in the engine room; and the last

time you were there you very nearly got mixed up with the engines and

turned into sausage meat."




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