Beatrice narrated her morning adventure with some spirit, praised her new friends, defended them from any score of rudeness, and altogether conjured up an interesting picture of them. The Bells turned to walk with her. Matty hung on one arm, Alice on another, Sophy hopped backwards in front. Before she quite knew that she meant to do so, Beatrice had asked the Bells to join the tennis party that evening. They accepted the invitation rapturously. "Might Polly and Daisy Jenkins come too, and might Polly's brother come, and if they met Mr. Jones, the curate--Mr. Jones did so love tennis--might _he_ come?" "Is the brother an officer in the real army?" inquired Matty. "Real army--" "Army--" echoed the others Beatrice was able to assure them that Captain Bertram had nothing spurious about him. "I'll see you at seven," she added, nodding to her companions. "Yes, you can bring the Jenkinses and the boys, and Mr. Jones. I really must hurry home now." She reached the Gray House, found her mother nodding, as usual, in her great easy-chair, and told her what she had done. "I met the Bertrams on the water, and had lunch with them, and they are coming to tennis to-night, and to supper afterwards, mother," she said. Mrs. Meadowsweet always approved of her daughter's doings. She approved now, nodding her kind old head, and raising her face with a smile. "Quite right, Trixie," she said. "How many Bertrams are there? Is Mrs. Bertram coming? If so, I had better put on my cap with the Honiton lace." "Mrs. Bertram is not coming, mother, but you must put on your best cap all the same. Mrs. Bertram is from home. It was the girls I met this morning--the girls, and their brother, Captain Bertram." "Oh, well, child, if they are all young folk the cap with Maltese lace will do. I don't wear Honiton, except for those who know." "Mother, I thought we might have supper in the garden. The weather is so lovely now, and it is quite light at half-past eight. Shall I give the order, and take all the trouble off you?" Mrs. Meadowsweet rose with a slight effort to her feet. "Do you think I am going to let you be worried, child?" she said. "No, no, what good is the old mother if she can't manage a thing of that sort? Of course you shall have supper in the garden, and a good supper, too. I am glad you have asked your friends, Bee. How well and bright you look. I am very glad you have made nice friends at last, child." "All my friends are nice, mother, at least I think so. By the way, I met the little Bells, and they were dying to come, so I asked them, and they said perhaps they would bring the Jenkinses, and Mr. Jones, and of course, the boys will drop in."