euse_ who has deftly led up to a _denouement_, and her audience
gasped in mingled surprise and curiosity.

"How _thrilling_! How weird!"

"What an extraordinary thing! Go on! Go on! And what happened next?"

Mrs Garnett chuckled contentedly.

"I met your father, married him, and lived happily ever after! As for
Mr Dalrymple, I never met him again nor heard his name mentioned. The
sequel is not at all exciting, but it was certainly an extraordinary
coincidence, and caused me much agitation at the time. I have timed
myself very well--my cone has just burned out. Who's turn comes next?"

There followed a somewhat lengthened pause while every one nudged a
next-door neighbour, and disdained responsibility on his own account.
Then Mr Vernon stepped into the breach.

"I heard a curious thing the other day. A friend of mine was taken
suddenly ill on a hillside in Switzerland, was carried into a chalet and
most kindly tended by the good woman. When, at the end of several
hours, he was well enough to leave, he wished to make her a present of
money. She refused to take it, but said that she had a daughter in
service in England, and that it would be a real pleasure to her, if,
upon his return, my friend would write to the girl telling her of his
visit to the old home. He asked for the address, and was told, `Mary
Smith, care of Mr Spencer, The Towers, Chestone.' He read it, looked
the old woman in the face and said, `_I_ am Mr Spencer! _I_ live at
The Towers, Chestone; and my children's nurse is called Mary Smith!'
There! I can vouch for the absolute truth of that coincidence, and I
think you will find it hard to beat."

"And what did he say to the nurse?" asked literal Clemence, to the
delight of her brothers and sisters, whose imaginary dialogues between
master and maid filled the next few minutes with amusement.

Dan's friend hailed from Oxford, and gave a highly coloured account of a
practical joke in several stages, which he had played on an irritating
acquaintance. The elder members of the party listened with awe, if
without approval, but Tim showed repeated signs of restlessness, and in
a final outburst corrected the narrator on an all-important point.

"That's the way they had it in _Britain's Boys_!" he declared, whereupon
the Oxford man hid his head under an antimacassar, and exclaimed
tragically that all was discovered! "Now it's Darsie's turn! Tell us a
story, Darsie--an adventure, your own ad