"It makes me almost weep to look at the dear children," whispered Mrs. Bell to her husband. "They look so innocent and lamb-like, more particularly Matty." Here she sighed profoundly. "I don't see why you should single out Matty," retorted the spouse. "She's no more than the others, as far as I can see, and Sophy has the reddest cheeks." "That's all you know," said Mrs. Bell. Here she almost shook herself with disdain. "Well, Peter, I often do wonder what Pas are for--not for observation, and not for smoothing a girl's path, and helping an ardent young lover. Oh, no, no!" "Helping an ardent young lover, Tilly! Whatever are you talking about? Where is he? I don't see him." "You make me sick, Peter. Hold your tongue, do, and believe your wife when she says that's about all you are good for. Matty's on the brink, and that's the truth." Poor Bell looked as mystified as he felt. Presently he slunk away to enjoy a quiet smoke with some congenial spirits in the coal trade, and Mrs. Bell marshalled her girls to as prominent a position as she could find. It was her object to get on the terrace. The terrace was very broad, and ran not only the length of the front of the house, but a good way beyond at either side. At each end of the terrace was a marquee, decorated with colored flags, and containing within the most refined order of refreshments. On the terrace were many seats, and the whole place was a blaze of gay dresses, brilliant flowers, and happy, smiling faces. It was here the _élite_ of the pleasure-seekers evidently meant to congregate, and as Mrs. Bell intended, on this occasion at least, to join herself to the select few, her object was to get on the terrace. She had not at first, however, the courage to mount those five sacred steps uninvited. The battery of eyes which would be immediately turned upon her would be greater than even her high spirit could support. Mr. Ingram had already spoken to her, she did not know Mrs. Bertram, although she felt that if Catherine or Mabel were near she might call to one of them, and make herself known as Matty's mother. Catherine and Mabel were, however, several fields away engaged in a vigorous game of archery. Mrs. Bell raised her fat face, and surveyed the potentates of the terrace with anxiety. "Keep close to me, Matty," she said to her eldest daughter. "Don't go putting yourself in the background. It isn't becoming, seeing what will be expected of you by-and-by. Now I wonder where the captain is! Mr. Ingram is sure to make a fuss about those Bertrams, and that young man will be expected to be at the beck and call of everybody all day long. But never you mind, Matty, my pet. He shall have his chances, or my name is not Tilly Bell." "I wish ma wouldn't," whispered Sophy to Alice. "I don't believe Captain Bertram cares a bit for Matty. Now, what are we all going to do! Oh, dear, I quite shake in my shoes. Ma is awfully venturesome, and I know we will be snubbed."