You are to name the guest to me, and I myself will send
the invitation in proper style. I know who Kitty would like to have
with her, but, failing that person, Kitty, is there anyone else whom
you may think it perhaps not your pleasure, but your duty, to ask to be
present?"

"There is only Helen Dartmoor," said Kitty, in a low voice, the crimson
flush rising to her face, "and though it will be very unpleasant to
have Helen here, if you think it right, Sir John, I--don't mind."

"That is very valiantly answered, Kitty, and I wish I might say at once
that you need not have anyone present whom you do not wish to have
present, but I rather think it would please your father if Miss
Dartmoor received a proper invitation. I will ask her therefore, my
dear child, if there is no one else you would rather have?"

"There is no one else that I can have, and I don't suppose I need see a
great deal of Helen."

"Certainly not; she will only arrive at the Park the day before the
Scholarship competition takes place."

"Then I suppose she must come," said Kitty.

"It would be a kindness," said Sir John, slowly. "I happen to know
Miss Dartmoor; she has few pleasures."

Kitty nodded. Sir John turned to Mary.

"Now, then, Miss Bateman, whom am I to ask on your account?"

"Oh, father, father! How delightful! how he will enjoy it!" said Mary,
her eyes sparkling, her face beaming. "He will so thoroughly
appreciate it all, and it will be so splendid of you, Sir John."

"How very free and easy Mary Bateman is," thought Florry to herself.

Sir John smiled, took down Mr. Bateman's address, and promised that the
invitation should reach him in good time.

"I wonder if he will come. How he would love it!" thought Mary.

Sir John glanced at her pleased face with marked approval.

"And now, Miss Aylmer," he said, turning to Florence, "who will you
have present--the one you love best: your mother, for instance?"

Now, Florence had sent one wild throbbing thought to the little Mummy
the moment Sir John had spoken of his plan. How the Mummy would enjoy
it, how she would revel in the good food and the lovely house! What a
red-letter day it would be to her all her life, for all the rest of her
years! How Sukey and Ann Pratt and the neighbors down at Dawlish would
respect her for evermore! And doubtless the Mummy's dress might be
managed, and--but what about Aunt Susan? Would Aunt Susan ever forgive
her? She dared not run the