Very stately was the courtesy with which Miss Bethesda greeted her guests. She was pleased to see them; hoped they would enjoy themselves, and make themselves as much to home as if they _was_ to home! This was generally the extent of her conversation with any one group of eager neighbours, before turning to welcome the next. But presently the colour deepened a little in her still fresh cheek, and her eyes grew brighter; for, coming up the ballroom, she saw the stalwart form of Buckstone Bradford, with pretty Nan beside him, looking like roses and milk in her white dress. "Knew he'd come!" Miss Bethesda said to herself; and immediately discovered, by the flutter at her heart, that she had not known, but only hoped it. Truth to tell, Mr. Bradford had had a dozen minds about coming to Bethesda Pool's party. He had never forgiven her for her treatment of him twenty years before; his heart was of firm and tenacious fibre, and retained the impression of affections and of injuries more than many a softer organ. He considered Bethesda still the finest-looking woman in the neighbourhood, and would have snorted with contempt if anyone had told him that his daughter Nan, with her pink-and-white prettiness, was fairer than ever his old sweetheart had been. But admiring was not forgiving, and nothing would have brought Buckstone out to-night save the dread of "goings-on" on the part of his girl and that good-for-nothing Newell fellow. There was something in the air,--Buckstone did not know what it was,--something that made him uneasy. Nan had been so meek the last time he scolded her, never once standing up for her favourite, as she was wont to do; she had been so affectionate, and,--well, she was always a good girl when she wasn't making a fool of herself about a noodle; but there was more than usual, her father thought. He didn't dare to let her go alone to the party; there was the plain truth of it; he was afraid, he knew not of what. So he had had his hair cut, and had taken out and brushed his wedding coat, not without angry and defiant thoughts of her who should have stood up with him when he wore it; and, briefly, here he was, standing before Bethesda Pool, grim and forbidding, but still a fine-looking man, his hostess thought, and towering head and shoulders above everyone else in the room. "Good evening, Mr. Bradford! pleased to see you!"