The company began to assemble in Dr. Bodkin's drawing-rooms about half-past eight o'clock. There were all our old acquaintances--Mr. Smith, the surgeon, and his wife; Mr. and Mrs. Dockett, with Miss Alethea, now promoted to long dresses and "grown-up" young-ladyhood. There was Orlando Pawkins; Mr. Warlock, the curate; and Colonel Whistler, with his charming nieces. Miss Chubb had dined with the Bodkins in the middle of the day, and, after being of great assistance to the mistress of the house in the preparation of her supper-table, had returned to her own home to dress, and consequently arrived upon the festive scene rather later than would otherwise have been the case. But she was not the last guest to arrive. Mr. Diamond came in after her; and so did one or two families from the neighbourhood of Whitford. ("County people," Miss Chubb said in a loud whisper to Rose McDougall, who replied snappishly, "Of course! We know them very well. Have visited them for years.") "This is a brilliant scene," said good-natured Miss Chubb, turning to Mr. Warlock, whom Fate had thrown into her neighbourhood. Mr. Warlock agreed with her that it was very brilliant; and, indeed, Dr. Bodkin's drawing-rooms, well lighted with wax candles, and with abundance of hot-house flowers tastefully arranged, and relieved against the rich crimson and oak furniture, were exceedingly cheerful, pleasant, and picturesque. There was an air of comfort and good taste about the rooms--a habitable, home-like air--not always to be found in more splendid dwellings. On her crimson lounging-chair reclined Minnie Bodkin. Her dress was of heavy cream-white silk, with gold ornaments. She wore nothing in her abundant dark hair, and her pale face seemed to many who looked upon it that evening to be more lovely than ever. Her lips had a tinge of red in them, and her eyes were full of lustre. There was a suppressed excitement about her looks and manner, which lighted up her perfectly-moulded features with a strange beauty that struck all observers. Even the McDougalls could not but admit that Minnie looked very striking, but added that she was a little too theatrically got up, didn't you think so? That was poor Minnie's failing. All for effect! "And," added Rose, "she has a good foil in that little pink and white creature who sits in the corner beside her chair, and never moves. I suppose she is told to do it. But the idea of dressing that chit up in a violet silk gown fit for a married woman! And she has no figure to carry it off. I really think it rather a strong measure on the Bodkins' part to ask us all to meet a girl of such very low origin on equal terms. But there it is, you see! Poor dear Minnie delights in doing startling things, unlike other people. And, of course, her parents refuse her nothing."