One party is very much like another. The room may be larger or smaller, the supper more or less substantial, but the programme is the same in both cases, and there is little to be told about even the grandest of its kind. Somebody wore pink; somebody wore blue; somebody fell down on the floor in the middle of the lancers, which are no longer the stately and dignified dance of yore, but an ungainly romp more befitting a kitchen than a ballroom; somebody went in to supper twice over, and somebody never went at all, but blushed unseen in a corner, thinking longingly of turkey, trifle, and crackers; and then the carriages began to roll up to the door, brothers and sisters paired demurely together, stammered out a bashful "Enjoyed myself so much! Thanks for a pleasant evening," and raced upstairs for coats and shawls. By half-past twelve all the guests had departed except the vicarage party, and the sons and daughters of the old squire who lived close by, who had been pressed to stay behind for that last half-hour which is often the most enjoyable of the whole evening. Lord and Lady Darcy and the grown-up visitors retired into the drawing-room to regale themselves with sandwiches and ices, and the young people stormed the supper-room, interrupted the servants in their work of clearing away the good things, seated themselves indiscriminately on floor, chair, or table, and despatched a second supper with undiminished appetite. Then Esther mounted the platform where the band had been seated, and played a last waltz, and a very last waltz, and "really the last waltz of all." The squire's son played a polka with two fingers, and a great deal of loud pedal, and the fun grew faster and more uproarious with every moment. Even Rosalind threw aside young ladylike affectations and pranced about without thinking of appearances, and when at last the others left the room to prepare for the drive home she seized Peggy's arm in eager excitement. "Peggy! Peggy! Such a joke! I told them to come back to say good-bye, and I am going to play a twick! I'm going to be a ghost, and glide out from behind the shwubs, and fwighten them. I can do it beautifully. See!" She turned down the gas as she spoke, threw her light gauze skirt over her head, and came creeping across the room with stealthy tread, and arms outstretched, while Peggy clapped her hands in delight. "Lovely! Lovely! It looks exactly like wings. It makes me quite creepy. Don't come out if Mellicent is alone, whatever you do. She would be scared out of her seven senses. Just float gently along toward them, and keep your hands forward so as to hide your face. They will recognise you if you don't." "Oh, if you can see my face, we must have less light. There are too many candles, I'll put out the ones on the mantelpiece. Stay where you are, and tell me when it is wight," Rosalind cried gaily, and ran across the room on her tiny pink silk slippers.