Delicacy prevented his pursuing the subject further. Could he do less than trust her fully, who had shown such noble confidence in him? A life so happy would have been bounded within a very narrow circle had John Treverton and his wife consulted only their own inclination; but society expects something from a well-born country gentleman with fourteen thousand a year. The Lady Parkers and Lady Barkers, of whom Celia had spoken somewhat disparagingly, came in state, swinging lightly on C springs in their old family carriages, to call upon the young couple. Invitations to ceremonious dinners followed in due course, and were reluctantly accepted, since it would have seemed ungracious to refuse them: and by-and-by Mrs. Trimmer, the housekeeper, suggested that the Manor House ought to give a series of dinners, such as she remembered when she was a giddy-pated young kitchen-maid in the service of Jasper Treverton’s father and mother. ‘They used to send out invitations for two or three dinner parties when the pheasant shooting began, and get it over,’ said Mrs. Trimmer, ‘for they were homely people, and didn’t care much for company. The old gentleman was wrapped up in his books, and the old lady was wrapped up in her garden; but when they gave a dinner there was no mistake about it.’ Laura submitted to inexorable custom. ‘We have eaten people’s dinners, and I suppose we must invite them here,’ she said, with an air of serio-comic vexation, ‘or they will consider us dishonest. Shall I make a list of the people to be asked, Jack, and shall we give Trimmer _carte blanche_ about the dinner?’ ‘I suppose that will be best,’ assented John, whose Christian name affection had corrupted to Jack. ‘Trimmer is a capital cook of the substantial English school. Her _menu_ may be wanting in originality, but it will be safe.’ ‘Well, I am glad you are awaking to the necessity of living like civilized Christians, instead of spooning all day in the seclusion of a house, compared with which Robinson Crusoe’s island must have been a vortex of dissipation,’ exclaimed Celia Clare, who was present at this discussion. ‘I am glad that at last, if it were only for my sake, you are going to conform to the laws of society. How am I to get a husband, I should like to know, unless I meet people here? There is no other house worth visiting in the neighbourhood.’ ‘We’ll take your necessities into consideration, my dear girl,’ answered John, gaily, ‘and if you can suggest any eligible bachelors, we’ll ask them to dinner.’ ‘That’s exactly what I cannot do,’ said Celia, with a despairing shrug. ‘There are no eligible bachelors indigenous to the soil. The only plan would be to put a _nota bene_ to your cards of invitation, “If you have any nice young men about you, pray bring them.”’