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 soul 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 afterward
that the dancing may go on--and that you will honor me again with your
hand. I leave you to your task; and, believe me, I'm not an ungrateful
man." He spoke, and bowed--not without some dignity--and vanished within
the breakfast division of the marquee. There he busied himself in
re-collecting the waiters, and directing them to re-arrange the mangled
remains of the table as they best could. Mrs. M'Catchley, whose
curiosity and interest were aroused, executed her commission with all
the ability and tact of a woman of the world, and in less than a quarter
of an hour the marquee was filled--the corks flew--the champagne
bounced and sparkled--people drank in silence, munched fruits and cakes,
kept up their courage with the conscious sense of numbers, and felt a
great desire to knew what was coming. Mr. Avenel, at the head of the