adies of the same party,
who, having no escort of their own, had to follow in the wake of others.
Nor would Sybil have minded this at all, had she not looked over the
balustrades and seen issuing from the little passage leading from Mrs.
Blondelle's room, two figures--a gentleman and a lady. The gentleman she
instantly recognized as her husband, by his dress as "Harold, the last
of the Saxon Kings." The lady she felt certain must be Rosa Blondelle,
as she wore the dress of "Edith the Fair," the favorite of the King.

For an instant Sybil reeled under this shock; and then she recovered
herself, re-gathered all her strength, and sternly crushing down all
this weakness, passed on as a guest among her guests to the door of the
drawing-room.

There they were received by a very venerable mask with a long and
flowing white beard, and dressed in a gold 'broidered black velvet
tunic, white hose, white gauntlets, and red buskins, and holding a long
brazen wand. This was no other than "Father Abe," the oldest man on the
manor, personating my "Lord Polonius," that prince of gentlemen ushers
and gold sticks in waiting.

While Sybil stood behind the group, she saw her husband and her rival
precede every one to the door.

"Names, if you please, sir?" inquired the usher with a bow.

"Harold the Saxon and Edith the Fair," answered Mr. Berners in a low
voice.

"Mr. Harry Claxton and Miss Esther Clair!" shouted poor old Abe at the
top of his voice as he opened wider the door to admit his unknown master
and the lady.

"Name, sir, please?" he continued, addressing the next party.

"Rob Roy Macgregor."

"Mr. Robert McCracker!" shouted the usher, passing in this mask, and
passing immediately to the next with, "Name, missus, please?"

"Fenella the dumb girl," murmured a very shy little maiden, whom the
usher immediately announced as "An Ell of a dumb girl!" And so on, he
went, making the most absurd as well as the most awful blunders with
ladies' and gentlemen's names, as announcing the "Grand Turk" as Miss
Ann Burke; for which last mistake the poor old man was not much to
blame, as the subject was but a little fellow in a turban and long gown,
whom Polonius naturally took to be a woman in a rather fantastic female
dress. But when he thundered forth a "Musketeer" as a "mosquito," and a
"Crusader" as a "curiosity," and "Joan of Arc" as "Master Johnny Dark,"
he was quite unpardonable.

Meanwhile Sybil had entered the room, which wa