furnished house near Hyde Park, and kept it freely open during the
season. Admission to such an establishment was a sort of "open sesame"
to heaven for the little widow. She loved, she adored Mrs. Burnett and
her dear charming girls, to say nothing of two half-grown sons, "the
most delightful boys!" She was really fond of them for the time, and it
was this touch of temporary sincerity that gave her the unconscious
power to hold the hearts of Mrs. Burnett and her daughters.

She was quite the pet of the family, and always at their beck and call.
To keep this position she strained every means; she even denied herself
an occasional pair of gloves in order to tip the stately man-servant who
opened the door and opened her umbrella occasionally for her.

She found the whole party assembled in the dining-room, and her entrance
was hailed with acclamations.

"I had just begun to tremble lest you should not come," cried Mrs.
Burnett, stretching out her hand, but not rising from her seat at the
head of the table.

"I only had your note half an hour ago," said Mrs. Liddell, with
pardonable inaccuracy, feeling her spirits rise in the delightful
atmosphere, flower-scented, and stirred by the laughter and joyous
chatter of the "goodlie companie."

A long table set forth with all the paraphernalia of an excellent
luncheon was surrounded by a merry party, the girls in charming summer
toilettes, and as many men as women. Men, too, in the freshest possible
attire, all "on pleasure bent."