Beatrice left the room, and Ted went to his father's desk, where he laboured painfully over the following poetical effusion: "Theodore Lee would like to see you at his home on Friday. Please come at eight, and do not wait to make yourself too tidy. For spells and tricks are apt to fix your clothes in sad condition; and folks, I ween, on Hallowe'en are not on exhibition." * * * * * Beatrice, coming downstairs at eight o'clock that evening, to assist in receiving the guests, found Miss Billy seated on the hearth rug, while Ted bedecked her hair with an artistic arrangement of feathers pulled out of the duster. The elder sister looked disturbed. "Goodness!" she said. "Don't let Ted do that. I hope you're not intending to wear those things." "Why not?" said Miss Billy carelessly. "The feather duster's moulting, anyway." "It isn't the duster I'm thinking of. It's you. Why _will_ you be so ridiculous before visitors?" "Oh, pshaw," exclaimed Miss Billy impatiently. "I'm doing it for fun. The 'visitors' are only girls and boys." "Mr. Lindsay is twenty-four," replied Beatrice with dignity, "and I am not a child." "Oh, ho!" jeered Ted, "you're both Methusalehs! Lindsay's got more sense than most people of his age. He's more like sixteen than twenty-four." Miss Billy had already removed the towering plumes. "I love my darling sister so That I would much for her forego," she chanted. "There goes the door bell. Ted, you're the footman?" "By all the powers above!" exclaimed Ted, as he swung open the door in mock ceremony. "Mr. Francis Lindsay, in a full suit of evening clothes! Such splendour! I'm glad now I blacked my shoes. Miss Billy, don't you wish you'd braved Bea's jeers and worn your ostrich tips?" "To the horror of all who were present that day He uprose in full evening dress, And with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say What his tongue could no longer express," quoted Francis. "Am I or am I not to come in? Good-evening, Miss Billy, good-evening, Miss Lee." Beatrice looked critically at the tall figure bending over her sister's hand. In his evening clothes Mr. Schultzsky's grand-nephew was a fine looking man, she owned to herself, and her voice was unusually cordial as she added her greeting to Miss Billy's. At the stroke of eight Margaret appeared, and John Thomas soon followed, in a high state of collar and excitement. "Mary Jane wasn't ready to come with me," he announced cheerfully. "She was prinking before the glass when I went by her room, and she said she couldn't fix her hair. She'll be along." His prediction was verified by a faint jingle of the door bell. A moment later Marie Jean's shrill voice was heard in the hall. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Theodore, don't mention it, please. I'm _so_ sorry to have kept you waiting. Where shall I lay my cloak?" The little group, gathered round the first fall fire, fell apart to permit the entrance of the last guest.