The day of the garden party showed a clear sky above, and Peter was up with the dawn and at work. Miss Ethel had appointed him her right-hand man, and though he had the entire stable and house force to help him, he found the responsibility wearing. He was feeling what it was to be a Captain of Industry. He superintended the raising of a supper tent on the lawn, strung coloured electric bulbs among the branches of the trees, saw the furniture moved out of the drawing-room and a hundred camp chairs moved in. He spent the afternoon shifting scenery for the dress rehearsal; but finally, close upon six, he shoved Plymouth Rock back into place for the first tableau, and, with a sigh of relief, turned toward the kitchen. He felt that he had earned a fifteen-minutes' chat with Annie. But fresh trouble awaited him. He found Mrs. Carter and Nora in anxious consultation. The ice-cream had not come; and the expressman, who had already met three trains, said that he could not deliver it now until morning. Mrs. Carter pounced upon Peter. "Is Miss Ethel through with you? Then drive to the station immediately and meet the six-twenty train. If it isn't on that, stop at Gunther's and tell them they will _have_ to make me seven gallons of ice-cream before ten o'clock to-night. It's disgraceful! I shall never engage Perry to cater again. And tell the expressman that I consider him very disobliging," she threw after him. An hour and a half later he dumped three kegs of ice and brine on the back veranda, and was turning away, cheered by the near hope of his long-postponed supper when Annie hailed him from the kitchen window. "Hey, Pete! Wait a minute. Miss Ethel said, as soon as you got back, for me to send you to the library." "What are they wantin' now?" he growled. "I'll be glad when that bloomin' young lord takes himself home to Ireland where he b'longs. Between picnics an' ridin' parties an' clambakes an' theatricals, I ain't had a chance to sit down since he come." Annie shoved a chair toward him. "Then now's your chance, for he's gone. A telegram came calling him away, an' Mr. Harry's just back from motoring him to the station." "Praise be to the saints!" said Peter, and he turned toward the library door. He found Miss Ethel, the two young ladies who were visiting her, and Mr. Harry Jasper gathered in a pensive group before the gauze screen that stretched across the front of the stage. "Here he is!" cried Miss Ethel, with an assumption of energy. "Put on this hat and wig, Peter, and stand behind the screen. I want to see what you look like." Peter apathetically complied. He had received so many extraordinary commands during the past few days that nothing stirred his curiosity. "Bully!" said Mr. Harry. "Never'd know him in the world." "We'll lower the lights," said Miss Ethel. "Fortunately the gauze is thick."