Here were set the ice-cream freezers and the other paraphernalia of delight, and about them was a struggling mob. Varney circled the throng with a roving eye. Of the lady he saw no sign anywhere. But presently, on the outer fringe of the cohorts which stormed the freezers, he came upon the child Jenny, and knew that he had found a guide according to his heart's desire. He touched her on the elbow. "Do you want to get some ice-cream?" She turned her homely little face up towards him, and said shyly: "Yes, sir. But they won't let me get near. And they say the chocolate is going fast." "They'll let me get near," said Varney heartily. "Chocolate is it, then? Lemonade, of course. And a thought of the cake with icing, shall we say? Good! But you're not here alone, are you?" "No, sir. I'm here with Miss Mary--over there in that corner." "Well, you just run over there with her and wait. Trust everything here to me." He emerged from the ruck a few moments later, disheveled but triumphant. Hat under his arm and both hands heavily laden, he made a gingerly progress to the place of his tryst, a comparatively unpopulated corner near the door. And there she stood, her comely youth brought into sharp relief by her surroundings, side by side with the living hunger and thirst of Jenny, whose yearning eyes summoned the young man like a beacon. Miss Carstairs happened to be looking in another direction. Varney, standing before her, calmly took up their acquaintance where he had left it last night at her mother's gate. "Good evening, Miss Carstairs. I bear refreshment for your little friend. What a magnificent evening for Hare and Reform, isn't it?" She turned, startled at the sound of his voice, looked at him, and looked at once away. "Oh ... yes, indeed. I--am waiting for Mr. Hare now. Jenny, are you sure you haven't seen him come out?" "Yessum," said Jenny, her eyes all for the tall stranger. Unable to resist their imploring appeal, he turned at once and delivered his burden. "Ice-cream--lemonade--" he made inventory--"cake with icing--tin spoon--paper napkin in my pocket. Is there anything else?" "I think," said Jenny, conscientiously, "there's figs." "You do not wish any figs to-night, Jenny," declared Miss Carstairs, rather more severely than mere figs seemed to warrant. "_No'm!_ I thought maybe he might want some." "I doubt if I'll take any figs to-night, either," laughed Varney. "But mayn't I get something for you, Miss Carstairs? I'm happy to say that the chocolate is holding out better than we feared." "Thank you," she said, apparently addressing the child, "I don't believe I wish anything." Jenny here produced and handed around a small, rather dangerous-looking paper-bag, which proved, upon investigation, to contain marshmallows. Miss Carstairs declined. Varney, to show how unimpeachable he considered his standing with the party, gratefully accepted.