"For mercy's sake, Grizel, _what_ has happened?" cried Martin loudly. Then, lifting his eyes, he glanced through the open door of the dining-room, and beheld... Where had stretched a smooth expanse of white, there were now unsightly gaps showing glimpses of dust and timber: where the lines of the cornice had neatly bordered the room, was now a rough and jagged edge. The ceiling had fallen, gently, unostentatiously, without fuss or clamour, and deposited itself upon the floor! At that moment the door bell rang. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. AMONG THE BULBS. By noon next day all Chumley was ringing with the story of Grizel Beverley's first dinner party, for each feminine guest, anxious to have the privilege of telling the news, had hurried out of the house at the first possible moment, and betaken herself to the High Street. "My dear! you never knew anything so awful.--I never enjoyed anything so much in my life," said Miss Hunter, the doctor's sister, to her dearest friend, and, linking arms, proceeded to give a detailed account of the night's adventure. How being herself the first to arrive at the house, the door had opened to reveal the tableau of the dishevelled mistress and maids, standing at the end of the hall, like figures of snow, and through an open door a vista of the dining-room, with a table heaped high with plaster. A gruesome spectacle it had been; the gleam of glass and silver serving but to accentuate the general ruin. For the first moment Mrs Beverley had gaped at her guests as if not realising the meaning of their presence; then suddenly she had begun to laugh, to peal with laughter, and to explain the nature of the sudden catastrophe. Then Miss Hunter and her brother had said that of course they would return home, and she had stamped her foot, and said--nothing of the kind! the dinner was cooked,--and pray, who was to eat the dinner? They were to stay; everyone was to stay; she would arrange everything in a twinkling! It would be first-rate fun. And it _was_ fun! At a word from their mistress the maids disappeared to change their gowns, while Grizel herself picked her way carefully up the staircase. Then her French maid spread a sheet over the floor in the dressing-room, and Mrs Beverley stepped out of her dress. She looked about eighteen in her petticoat, and as slight as an elf, yet there wasn't a bone to be seen. "So different from my gridiron chest!" said Miss Hunter, with a sigh. And then? Well, then she rubbed the plaster off her hair, but it still looked all white and _poudree_, and stayed that way all evening,--so becoming! and the maid came in with another beautiful gown--green this time, and she was all fastened up and ready, almost as soon as the guests themselves. Then the fun began.