It was with curious sensations that Dorothy found herself, in what she felt were borrowed plumes, moving, on Frances' arm, amid a gaily attired crowd of persons, not one of whom seemed to have a care in the world. If, as Frances had said, many had already gone, then the lawns must have been inconveniently thronged, for certainly enough people for comfort still remained; and if, as Frances had also said, those who stayed, proposed, immediately, to depart, then they managed to mask their intentions with considerable skill. It seemed to Dorothy that not only had many of them no present intention of leaving, but that they intended to stop where they were as long as they possibly could. As the two girls passed together, arm-in-arm, across the lawns, they were the subjects of general attention. As Frances had prophesied, Dorothy made a sensation. People asked each other who she was, giving to their inquiries different forms: one wondering who the "curious-looking," and another who the "striking-looking," girl might be. A lady who was standing by Mrs Vernon gave her question a shape which was still more flattering to its object. "My dear!" she exclaimed, "who is that lovely girl with Frances?" "What lovely girl?" Up to that moment Mrs Vernon had been unaware that her pertinacious daughter had, at last, succeeded in her avowed design; and when, on turning, she beheld proof of the fact, she smiled. She replied to the question with another. "Do you think she's lovely?" "Don't you? My dear! she's such good style!" "Yes, she is good style; and, now, she does look lovely." "Why do you say 'now'--in that tone?" Mrs Vernon was thinking what a difference the frock made, and the artist's hand in the treatment of the hair, and suffered the words to go unheeded. The speaker pressed her former query: "Who is she?" "She's a school friend of my daughter's." The girls came towards them. Mrs Vernon spoke to Dorothy. "I am glad to see that this insistent child of mine has managed to persuade you to come among us. In such weather as this it seems almost wicked to stay indoors, even if one's head is bad. I think that here, also, is someone who is glad to see you." She referred, smilingly, to the lady who was standing by her--who said: "One always does like to see decent-looking people; but I especially like to see pretty girls at such times as these, if only because they fit in with the sunshine, and the flowers, and the decorations. I was asking Mrs Vernon who you were, but she hasn't told me." The hostess went through the ceremony of introduction--with mock formality. "Mrs Purchas, permit me to have the honour to present to you--Miss Gilbert." Falling into Mrs Vernon's vein Mrs Purchas favoured Dorothy with an exaggerated curtsey. "Delighted to have the pleasure, Miss Gilbert. No connection, I presume, of Miss Dorothy Gilbert, of Newcaster--are you?"