There had been times of late when the entanglement of his younger son's position in the regiment, with an elder brother a private in the ranks, had half driven him mad, keeping him awake night after night; and Claire had lain weeping despairingly as she had heard him pace his room, but the horrible difficulty he had been anticipating did not seem to come home, and he waited for the Nemesis that would some day arrive, hoping that he might be allowed time to complete his plans before the bolt fell. He sat one morning, deciding with Claire to whom invitations were to be issued. Lady Drelincourt would come of course, as Lord Carboro' would be there, and several other notables had been invited. "Then the officers of the regiment, of course." Claire half rose and looked in her father's face. "We must forget that, my child," he said imploringly. "Major Rockley is a gentleman, and he has in some sort apologised to Morton. He told me so. To leave him out would be to insult him. He must be asked. His good sense will keep him away. You must ask Colonel Mellersh, too. He is a great friend of Colonel Lascelles." "You will ask Mr and Mrs Barclay, father?" said Claire. "Oh, yes, we must. Dreadfully vulgar people, but it is a necessity." Claire sighed as she thought of what was behind Mrs Barclay's vulgarity, and the note was written. A couple of days passed, and everyone without exception had expressed his or her intention of being present, when, as he was on the Parade, Colonel Mellersh met the MC, and said: "By the way, Denville, I want you to invite my young friend Linnell to your party." "I shall be charmed," said Denville, with a smile, for he could not refuse; and in due course Richard Linnell received an invitation and replied. A little farther on, Denville came upon Lady Drelincourt in her chair. "Ah, Denville, bad man," she said, tapping him with her folded fan. "I feel as if I could not come to your house. My poor dear sister!" The houses on the Parade seemed to reel before the MC's eyes. "But one cannot grieve for ever. I shall come. Have you asked that wicked Rockley?" Denville bowed. "And Sir Matthew Bray?" "All the officers whom duty will allow are coming." "That's well; and now, Denville, you must send an imitation with apologies to Mrs Pontardent." "Lady Drelincourt!" "I can't help it. She wishes to come, and I have promised that she shall." The result was that Mrs Pontardent was invited, and in turn she expressed a wish that her dear friends the Deans, whom Mr Denville had introduced to her, should not be left out. The Master of the Ceremonies had the deciding who should be in society, and who should not; and here he was making a stand when Lord Carboro' came up--it was on the pier--and was appealed to by Mrs Pontardent. "Oh, yes, Denville," he said good-humouredly; "ask Mrs and Miss Dean."