We enter the hall, and peep into the different rooms. In the dining-room is the remains of an ample repast. At the head of the table is an enormous cake, covered with silver doves and ornaments of all kinds; servants are drinking the remains of champagne out of glasses and bottles with healths innumerable. In the library and hall, children in white frocks, with silver bows fastened to them, pattering to and fro in unchecked excitement. In the drawing-room we pause, and listen to the conversation that is passing between Mr Gwynne, Lady Mary, Colonel and Mrs Gwynne Vaughan, and Sir Hugh Pryse. 'I am so thankful it is over, and that it has all gone off so well,' says Lady Mary. 'Really, Lady Mary,' says Mr Gwynne, 'great thanks are due to you for the admirable manner in which you managed everything. I think it was wonderful that we amalgamated, and all that sort of thing, don't you, Gwynne?' Colonel Vaughan replies, yawning,-- 'I don't know what on earth we shall do without Freda! And she to throw herself away upon that stupid London parish, where all her charming manner and talent will be lavished upon ragged schools and missionary meetings. I wish she had never come back.' 'Oh, Gwynne, I'm thure Mr Prothero ith very nithe, and tho gentlemanlike and good and handthome. And, you know, clergymen are ath good ath any one in London.' 'Prothero is better than most, I think,' says Sir Hugh, 'because there is no humbug about him. And I'm sure, since Freda wouldn't have me, I'm glad she had him, though I never guessed she liked him; I used to think she liked you best, Vaughan.' The colonel sighs. 'Oh! I never flattered myself so far, I wish--' 'Certainly, I could not have believed the Protheros were such superior people,' says Lady Mary. 'As to Mr Owen and his wife, they might be introduced into any society.' 'Thweetly pretty, Gladyth ith, I never thought tho much of her before,' lisps Mrs Vaughan. 'Tho interethting the looked in that dreth, the one the wath married in, my maid thaith.' 'I was obliged to call at the farm myself, to induce old Prothero and his wife to come,' says Mr Gwynne, 'Freda wished it so much; I cannot say I did: you see it was rather awkward. But he did not change his old manner towards me--or--in fact--you know, Sir Hugh he might have been--' 'Bumptious,' breaks in Sir Hugh; 'exactly, not a bit of it. They're better behaved. Besides, there was Mrs Jonathan to support the honour of the family, and her husband the learning.' 'Yes,' says Lady Mary; '' it is a comfort that they are really gentlefolks. And Mr and Mrs Jones too--in short, with the exception of the parents, after all, there is no great objection. Many girls make worse matches. Only they live so near.' Here little Harold comes bouncing into the room, followed by the other children.