Jane Preen had promised, for herself and for Oliver, to be there by three o'clock. For Oliver! She made herself ready after dinner; and then, looking everywhere for her brother, found him standing in the road just outside the garden gate. He said he was not going. Jane reproached him, and he quite laughed at her. _He_ go into company now! she might know better. But Jane had great influence over him, and as he walked with her along the road--for she was going to walk in and walk back again at night--she nearly persuaded him to fetch her. Only nearly; not quite. Oliver finally refused, and they had almost a quarrel. Then the tears ran down Jane's cheeks. Her heart was aching to pain for him; and her object in pressing him to come was to take him out of his loneliness. "Just this one evening, Oliver!" she whispered, clinging to him and kissing him. "I don't ask you a favour often." And Oliver yielded. "I'll come for you, Janey," he said, kissing her in return. "That is, I will come on and meet you; I cannot go to the house." With that, they parted. But in another minute, Jane was running back again. "You will be _sure_ to come, Oliver? You won't disappoint me? You won't go from your word?" Oliver felt a little annoyed; the sore heart grows fretful. "I swear I'll come, then," he said; "I'll meet you, alive or dead." I was at the party. Not Tod; he had gone shooting. We spent the afternoon in the garden. It was not a large party, after all; only the Letsoms, Jane Preen, and the Chandler girls; but others were expected later. Jane had a disconsolate look. Knowing nothing of the trouble at Duck Brook, I thought she was sad because Valentine had not come early, according to promise. We knew later that he had been kept by what he called a long-winded client. At five o'clock we went indoors to tea. Those were the days of real, old-fashioned teas, not sham ones, as now. Hardly had we seated ourselves round the table, and Mrs. Jacob Chandler was inquiring who took sugar and who didn't, when one of the maids came in. "If you please, Miss Preen, the gig is come for you," she said. "The gig!" exclaimed Jane. "Come for me! You must be mistaken, Susan." "It is at the gate, Miss Jane, and Sam's in it. He says that his master and missus have sent him to take you home immediate." Jane, all astonishment, followed by some of us, went out to see what Sam could mean. Sam only repeated in a stolid kind of way the message he had given to Susan. His master and mistress had despatched him for Miss Jane and she must go home at once. "Is anything the matter?--anyone ill?" asked Jane, turning pale. Sam, looking more stolid than before, professed not to know anything; he either did not or would not. Miss Jane had to go, and as quick as she could, was all he would say. Jane put on her things, said good-bye in haste, and went out again to the gig. Sam drove off at a tangent before she had well seated herself. "Now, Sam, what's the matter?" she began.