flowers and the costumes of the ladies acquired a strange intensity of
color. Then there was a band playing, and a good deal of chatting going
on, and one old gentleman with a grizzled mustache humbly receiving
lessons in lawn tennis from an imperious small maiden of ten. Macleod
was here, there, and everywhere. The lanterns were to be lit while the
people were in at supper. Lieutenant Ogilvie was directed to take in
Lady Beauregard when the time arrived.

"You must take her in yourself, Macleod," said that properly constituted
youth. "If you outrage the sacred laws of precedence--"

"I mean to take Miss Rawlinson in to supper," said Macleod; "she is the
oldest woman here, and I think, my best friend."

"I thought you might wish to give Miss White the place of honor," said
Ogilvie, out of sheer impertinence; but Macleod went off to order the
candles to be lit in the marquee, where supper was laid.

By and by he came out again. And now the twilight had drawn on apace;
there was a cold, clear light in the skies, while at the same moment a
red glow began to shine through the canvas of the long tent. He walked
over to one little group who were seated on a garden chair.

"Well," said he, "I have got pretty nearly all my people together now,
Mrs. Ross."

"But where is Gertrude White?" said Mrs. Ross; "surely she is to be
here?"

"Oh yes, I think so," said he. "Her father and herself both promised to