We had music, rendered slightly off key, but with all the good will in the world, by the Green Hill Musical Four, consisting of a Simpson, a Watkins, and the Jones twins, who performed respectively upon a cornet, a violin, a banjo, and a mouth-organ. It was, Diary, the very last word in successful parties. Only one thing occurred to cast any shadow over a wonderful day. And, of all people selected by an unkind Fate to sully my happiness, it was Peter who, to mix metaphors somewhat, cast the first stone. In the presence of at least six villagers, including Granny Wallace, the town gossip, he regarded my frivolity of a lace and ribbon cap, and asked, as solemnly as a mouth full to capacity with cake would permit, "Mavis, _how_ do you set your cap?" "How do I what?" I asked in all innocence, one hand to my headgear. "Set it," he repeated. "Sally says that Adeline says that you are setting your cap for Doctor Denton!" Adeline, Diary, is Sally's sister, and Dr. Denton's cook. Several in the group about me laughed, and Granny Wallace's ears grew visibly in length. "I can't imagine what you mean, Peterkins," I answered with well-assumed carelessness, and turned to talk volubly with Mrs. Goodrich, who was adding to the gaiety by saying audibly, "Hush, Peter!" But Peter was not to be silenced. "Sally says," he protested, in his clear little voice, "that Adeline says she told doctor Denton about it, your cap, you know, and that he laughed out loud and said you could for all of him!" "What's that about Doctor Denton?" asked that individual, suddenly coming up quietly behind the group. Talk about bombshells! Despite Mrs. Goodrich's frantic attempt to hush her young hopeful, Peter, his hand in Doctor Denton's, obligingly repeated his story. "An'," he concluded, turning to me wistfully, "please, Mavis, won't you set it for me? I'd like to see how you do it!" Amid an awestruck silence, Doctor Denton swung Peter, who squealed with delight, up and up to his broad shoulder, and said, laughing but a little red, "Nonsense, old chap, Miss Carroll won't set her cap for you for--well, about twenty years, more or less. But isn't it a pretty cap?" With a wicked laugh he turned and strode off, Peter clinging to his shock of dark hair and asking very loudly, "But does she do it like hens do, Doctor Uncle?" I haven't the remotest idea what happened after that. I vaguely remember Granny Wallace hurrying and cackling off, and the other members of the group trying to compose their features and to re-order their conversation. That Mrs. Goodrich, before she left, bent over me and whispered, "Mavis dear, I'm _so_ sorry!" helped matters, as far as I was concerned, not one whit. By the same evening, I am certain that the story was all over Green Hill. Even Sarah said something to me, before I went to bed.... Somehow, I should have thought my helplessness would have protected me a little.... After my guests had gone, Doctor Denton appeared on the scene.