Friday has dawned, and is as delightful a day as ever any miserable out-of-door entertainer can desire; and Miss Barry, in spite of her tremors, and her fears for the success of this, her first big adventurous party, feels a certain sense of elation. Yes, to-day she is going to entertain all the party at the Park; yesterday the Park had entertained all her young people. The good soul (so good in spite of her temper and her peculiarities) has felt deep joy in the thought that the children had been not only invited, but actually sought after, by all those fashionable folk up there, and though she would have died rather than boast of it to her neighbours, being too well-born for boasting of that kind, still, her own heart swells with pride at the thought that, in spite of their poverty, the children’s birth has asserted itself, and carried them through all difficulties to the society where they should be. So happy has she been in her unselfish gladness, that she has forgotten to scold one of them for quite ten hours. And now Friday, the day of her coming triumph, has arrived, and she has risen almost with the sun that has brought it. There is so much to be done, you see: the best table-cloths to be brought out, and the old Queen Anne teapot to get a last rub, and all the cakes to be made! There will be plenty of time for the baking of them before five o’clock, at which hour Lady Forster has arranged to come with all her guests. Susan and Betty have been busy with the drawing-room—one of the smallest rooms on record; a fact, however, made up for lavishly by the size of the furniture, which would not disgrace a salon. It is now, to confess the truth, in the sere and yellow stage, and some of the chairs have legs that are distinctly wobbly, and by no means to be depended upon. ‘Hurry up, Susan!’ says Betty. ‘The room will do very well now, especially as no one will come into it. They are sure to stay in the garden this lovely evening. Come and see about the flowers for the table.’ ‘Oh, look at that screen!’ cries Susan; and indeed, as a fact, it is upside down. ‘Never mind! Come on,’ says Betty impatiently, dragging her away. ‘Even if it is the wrong way up it doesn’t matter. It looks twice as Japanesey that way. I wonder if the boys have brought the fruit yet?’