The engaged ones, of course, went dining-room-wards together--a good omen of the future, in the eyes of both, hinting that they would thus wander side by side towards the good things of this life. Archie was squire to Kaituna. Ecstasy! Rapture! Bliss! Ah, how poor a language is English when required to express the joy of two lovers coming together for a whole evening, who have not expected Fate or Cupid or Mother Venus to be so kind. Out of compliment to the month of roses, Vicar Clendon gave his guests a distinctly pink dinner, which was a novelty, both as regards viands, wines, and artistic arrangements. In the centre of the white tablecloth there was an oval, shaped of moist-looking emerald moss, filled with loose rose-leaves, from the midst of which sprang rich clusters of the flower in red, in white, and in yellow, set off here and there by masses of green leaves. No intrusive epergne to hide the faces of the guests from one another, but a tiny fountain shooting up a silver thread that fell again in diamond spray over the odorous blossoms below--rose-wreaths for the white bosoms of the ladies, rose bouquets with entanglements of delicate maiden-hair fern for the men, and on imitation rose-leaf menus the names of the dishes in purple ink. Viands for the most part rose-tinted by an artistic cook, and as for wines, there was claret deeply red, port amethystine in tint, sparkling burgundy of rosy hues, and from the roof roseate light suffused from a red-shaded lamp. The whole prevailing tint of this unique meal was the rose-red of dawn, and Parson Clendon, smiling benignly from the head of the table, felt that he had achieved a distinct success in the way of originality, a thing to be proud of in this century of used-up ideas. "The Romans," observed the vicar, discursively, by way of providing a subject of conversation, "the Romans would have enjoyed a meal served up in this fashion." "You are thinking of Vitellius," asserted Mr. Gelthrip, in a dictatorial manner. "No, sir! I am thinking of Lucullus. A gourmet, sir, not a gourmand." Mr. Gelthrip, not being sufficiently learned either in French or gastronomy to appreciate the subtlety of this remark, wisely held his tongue and went on with his soup. "If we were like the Romans, father, we should be crowned with garlands of roses," said Toby, in order to keep the ball of conversation rolling. "Instead of which we wear the roses in our buttonholes," added Archie, gaily; "not so graceful, perhaps, but more comfortable." "Ah, we're not at all classic," observed the host, regretfully; "dining with Lucullus we should have reclined." "How uncomfortable!" said Tommy, saucily; "as bad as having breakfast in bed." "Which is where you generally have it," interposed Mrs. Valpy, reprovingly. "Ah!" said Toby, with a world of meaning in his tone, "I am afraid you have not studied one Dr. Watts----"