Tom and Ada Martin, and the fiddle, were the next to arrive. The fiddle was Tom’s; his special hobby. No party was complete without it, for if it were not there neither was Tom. His motto was, “Love me, love my fiddle.” A merry fellow was Tom; he could sing and play, and the proudest moments in Ada’s life were when she accompanied him in a solo on his violin. Moreover, he wrote poetry (?), rattling, merry ditties, that broke out into exuberant choruses of And it’s heigh, ho, hum, With a tum, tum, tum, Fal lal de riddle ho, tum, tum, tum! Ada Martin was Tom Martin in the feminine; she had all the boy’s humour, with the girl’s grace and refinement. Everybody who knew her knew that she could tell them the last new game, or ask the last new riddle; and if at a party the fun came to a standstill, and somebody asked “What shall we do next?” the reply would be sure to come in the shape of a question, “Where’s Ada Martin?” Ada rejoiced in long curls, treacherous curls, that had made many a lad fall in love with her; in fact, Frank Edwards was once heard to say that he should like to win her heart by gallantly rescuing her from the power of some grim tyrant; or, “Better still,” said he, “if she would fall into the sea off the pier at Margate, and I could jump in and save her by catching hold of her beautiful curls, it would be so jolly!” Frank Edwards! The next rat-tat announced him and his sister, “Little Flo,” as he called her at home, though in company she was Florence. Frank was very fond of his sister; he had a weakness for hair, as we have seen, and hers descended like a cataract, or, as Frank said, like a Great Flow, over her neck and shoulders. A bright, merry little fairy was Florence Edwards, and a very popular young lady. Alec Boyce was nearly on the point of fighting a duel with Walter Stanley one snowy night, when it was proposed at a party that she should be carried to the carriage, and it became a question as to who should do it. Fortunately, however, no blood was spilt, for the boys clasped hands, and carried her sedan-fashion; and as she had to put an arm over each shoulder, in order to steady herself, what could be fairer? Elasticity runs in some families, as gout does in others, and the Edwards’ were elastic people. Frank could turn himself into a catherine wheel, imitate Donato on one leg, dance a hornpipe, or stand on his head and fire off sham pistols with both hands at once; and as his talent was quite distinct from that of the musical Tom Martin, or the dramatic Charlie Stanley, he enjoyed a popularity as great in its way as theirs. Rat-tat-tat! The Misses Clara and Alice Stanley, with their music. Mr. Stanley, with his microscopes. Miss Marianne Layton, with her doll—white tulle, looped up with spangles. Mr. Oswald Layton (his first appearance in stand-up collars.) The Misses Emily and Nelly Cathcart (with their _bran_ new dolls—blue tarleton, looped with snowdrops).