The dinner had been arranged on an even more lavish scale than any of their former entertainments. The rarest flowers procurable were ordered. The menu was to be purveyed by D'Angelis, a clever Italian chef, who sent forth the daintiest of entrees and savouries, and the most delectable of ice-puddings. "All must be of the most elegant and select," said Mr. Rayner, looking up from his lists before him. "I want old Worsley to see what a first-rate dinner 'La'yer Rayner' can give. I've ordered cases of the best hock and champagne to please his fastidious palate. I hear his boy is an excellent caterer, and no doubt Worsley is a _bonne fourchette_." But disappointment came in the shape of a note from Mark Cheveril to Hester, to tell her that he and his chief were engaged for Christmas Eve. She read Mark's letter aloud in faltering tones, knowing the chagrin it would bring to her husband, who said bitterly: "A very lukewarm friend, Hester! He might easily have arranged to come to us if he had cared to. Yet what friendship he professed for you and the whole Bellairs family! But you see it is just in such selfish moves that his half-caste blood comes out!" Hester did not like her husband throwing the blame on Mark, yet she could not help feeling that her old friend might have remembered how much it would mean to her to see a home face among the new acquaintances who were to gather round their board. Mr. Rayner seemed anxious to ignore the disappointment. "I can easily provide substitutes," he remarked airily, "who will be proud to sit at my table." But Hester felt that this artificial occasion would only remind her sorrowfully of the happy gatherings of Pinkthorpe days; the excitement of decorating the village church, the frosty sunsets, the joys of holly and misletoe, and the festive air which seemed to pervade everything. Christmas Eve came round. She had already dressed for dinner, wearing, at her husband's request, her wedding dress, with beautiful, white camellias at her waist and on her fair wavy hair. "Oh, ma'm, how booful you looking," said her ayah, with many ejaculations of admiration; and she called Rosie to have a peep at the beautiful Dosani. Hester had just fastened her gold cross with its tiny chain on her neck when her husband entered the room. "How fortunate I've remembered, Hester! I've just excavated your diamonds from my safe. I believe you wanted to give them a premature burial there! Not so shall you treat my loving gifts, my love! Off with that trumpery cross and let me see my gems sparkling on your beautiful neck!" Hester tried hard to conceal the disappointment she felt at having to wear the ostentatious jewel, but she saw it was inevitable, though the ayah, on the pretext of arranging the folds of her dress, whispered to her: "Missus wear cross--that plentee luckee jewel!"