thright to charm! It seemed impossible that she should
ever do the wrong thing.

When it came to Betty's turn she played conscientiously through the
Sonata Pathetique, with which she had been wrestling for two hours a day
for the last month. That very morning she had played it over without a
single fault, and really and truly the runs had sounded quite
professional; but when your head throbs, and your cheeks burn, and your
heart pounds, and your feet grow cold, and your fingers are hot, and
stick together, and refuse to do what they are told, it is wonderful how
differently things sound! Poor Sonata! It really _was_ rather
pathetic, and it is to be feared that the audience was almost as much
relieved as was Betty herself, when it came to an end.

The Magnetic Lady performance was a great success, Miles as showman
being an agreeable surprise to his relations, for if he were not
discursive, he was at least perfectly composed and business-like, and
the poker trick and balancing feats were alike marvellous and
perplexing.

Agatha recounted a story of a haunted castle, and of a ghost which was
not a ghost at all, but simply a gentleman's bath-gown hung on a nail.
The plot was decidedly thin, but the audience found amusement in the
quaint and truly Rendell-like phraseology in which it was presented, and
in the lavish use of italics. Poor crushed Betty congratulated Agatha
on her success, and Agatha rolled her eyes, and cried tragically--

"My dear--I nearly _expired_ with embarrassment! I was _purple_ with
agitation. As a candid friend, tell me truly--_has_ it spread to my
nose?"

Somebody recited; someone sang a song; somebody introduced a new game;
somebody showed card tricks; a budding artist took lightning portraits
of host and hostess and a few of the leading guests, and presently
supper was announced before Christabel had had time for her turn.

"Never mind! It will be even better afterwards! I intended it to be
afterwards," she said, smiling mysteriously, as she was led down to
supper by the oldest and most important man in the room. Miles eagerly
appropriated Cynthia, and Betty's partner was one Mr Ned Rendell, the
only brother of the houseful of girls, a somewhat lofty and self-
satisfied gentleman, who let her see that he considered her a mere child
more plainly than was altogether polite. Not being possessed of Jill's
youthful love of good things to eat, she was thankful when it was time
to return