The stall-holders presented a singularly fresh and unworn appearance, considering how much they had undergone, as they gradually put in an appearance at their stall on the following day, and gathered together in little knots to compare notes as to their sufferings, and here and there to allude incidentally to their takings--which certainly seemed disproportionate to the exertions of which they were the result. The fancy dress idea on which Mrs. Halse’s whole soul had been set in March had been abandoned when Mrs. Halse found a fresh hobby in April; and each lady wore that variety of the fashion of the day which seemed most desirable in her eyes. All the dresses were very “smart,” and as their wearers moved about, visiting one another’s stalls, exchanging greetings, and inspecting one another’s wares with critical eyes, they showed to conspicuous advantage. For, during the first hour at least, the stall-holders and their satellites, male and female--a mere handful of people in the great hall--had the entire place with all its decorations to themselves. It was the cheap day, however, and as the afternoon wore on the hall gradually filled with that curious class of person which is always craving for any link, however “sham,” with the fashionable world, and makes it a point of self-respect to attend all public functions in which “society” chances to be engaged. These far-off votaries of fashion walked about, looking not at the stalls, but at the ladies in attendance on them, turning away as a rule in stolid silence when invited in mellifluous tones to buy; or perhaps investing a shilling when long search had resulted in the discovery of a twopenny article to be had for that sum, for the sake of making a purchase from one of the leaders of fashion; some of them, with a vague notion that it was fashionable to “know every one,” kept up a great show of talk and laughter, and were constantly seeing acquaintances on the other side of the hall--with whom they never by any chance came in contact. But no one spent more than five shillings, and the stall-holders began to find the position pall. “I call this deadly!” said Mrs. Halse, subsiding into a chair, and looking up pathetically at Julian Romayne, who stood by. Julian should have been in attendance at the stall next but one, where Mrs. Pomeroy and his mother reigned, but Mrs. Halse, in view of the exertions before her, had summoned to her aid, about a week before, Miss Hilda Newton; and Miss Hilda Newton was looking irresistibly bewitching to-day in a big yellow hat. Her spirits, also, bore the strain of the proceedings better than did those of the other young ladies. “Suppose we pick out some things--cheap things”--with a little grimace--“and go about among the people and try and sell them,” she said now adventurously, looking up into Julian’s face, with her pretty black eyes dancing. “I’ve done it heaps of times at bazaars, and it always goes well. Let us try, Mr. Romayne.”