to the drawing-room, where Christabel was already awaiting her
turn, with an eagerness which had been lacking in any other performer.

"Put your chairs against the wall, please--quite against the wall! I
need all the room I can get," she directed, waving her hands to right
and left in masterful fashion. "That's better! Move that table,
please. I don't want to knock it down. I shall want someone to help
me. Mr Ross, will you be so kind? We must have a musical
accompaniment, too. A little slow music--Agatha knows what I mean.
Begin at once, please!"

A meaning glance passed between the sisters as Agatha obediently seated
herself on the piano-stool and struck up--a waltz tune! When, presto!
Christabel and her partner were whirling round the room, while she
laughed a merry defiance at Nan, and nodded to the assembled guests to
follow her example.

In a trice the floor was covered with dancers, and for the rest of the
evening no other amusement had a chance. Christabel had her way after
all! It was safe to predict that Christabel generally _would_ get her
own way.

It was in the middle of the final Sir Roger, just as she was curtseying
in the centre of the two long lines, that Jill's pouch played her false,
and a meringue, a sausage roll, and a couple of crackers fell on the
ground in a sticky heap. Betty wished that the ground would open and
swallow her up, and even Jill had the grace to blush, but Mrs Vanburgh
came to the rescue with truly delightful understanding.

"Oh--oh, what a pity! You were taking them home for the children--I
always did!" she cried sympathetically. "Bring a shovel, Gervase,
please, and take away the crumbs. You should have smuggled them into
the bedroom, Jill--that's how _I_ managed. Now then, partner!" and off
she went, dancing down the line, and setting everybody else going, so
that it was impossible to dwell any longer on the tragic discovery.

Never since the creation of the world, Jill decided, had there lived
anyone more deliciously suitable to play the part of hostess to an
assembly of young people!

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A STRANGE MEETING.

Time passes rapidly to the young and light-hearted, and winter fogs had
given place to blue skies and flowering trees before--as Jill expressed
it--one could say "Jack Robinson."

Miles was finishing his course of study, and had so distinguished
himself above his fellows that there was little doubt that a good
opening would