He showed them solemnly into the drawing-room, tripping over his skirt merely a trifle, and nearly giving Bertha, who had primly come to attend to the door, hysterics. He advanced to the smoke-room, where the mayonnaise was nearly completed. "Mrs. and Miss Dudgeon and Miss Steven are in the drawing-room," said Lance. CHAPTER VII Visitors Again By itself an occurrence like this would have been unnerving enough. Visitors on the afternoon of a party, and such visitors! But that the Leightons should all be more or less in a pickle in regard to the mayonnaise and Lance’s foolery seemed to take things altogether over the barrier of ordinary life, and land everybody in a perfect fizzle. The Dudgeons must have called to see Cuthbert, who had never been down yet on these occasions when Mrs. Leighton and Mabel and Jean with perfect propriety had received them. Mabel had had her innings as the eldest of the house, but had retained an enormous reserve when speaking to Miss Dudgeon. Not so Jean, who believed in getting to know people at once. Elma and Betty had never ventured near them since that dreadful day when they all did the wrong thing at the wrong moment. "Anyhow, the drawing-room is a perfect dream with flowers. They can look at that for a bit," said Jean, as they began to remove the regiment of bottles. Dr. Harry’s mayonnaise was creamy and perfect, and Mabel was in high fettle correspondingly. "Do you know," she said, "I don’t care tuppence for the Dudgeons just now. Let’s go in and give them a decent reception for once." It reflected the feeling of all, that nothing could disturb their gaiety on this day. Elma was reminded again how right her father was in declaring that once one had an absorbing object in front of one, trifles dwindled down to their proper level. Why should any of them be afraid of the Story Books? Certainly not at all, on a day when they were about to have a ripping party, and the mayonnaise at last had "mayed." Cuthbert gave a big jolly laugh at Mabel’s speech. "Come along, all of you," he said. "What about those oily fingers of yours, Harry? What a jewel of a husband you’ll be! You, Lance, get off these togs and behave yourself." Lance promised abjectly to be an ornament to the household for the rest of the afternoon. Something in his look as he went off reminded Mabel of other promises of Lance. "Be good," she called out to him. "Yes, mother," exclaimed Lance, evidently at work already tearing off the skirt, and looking demure and mournful. He seemed very ridiculous still, and they went off merrily to the drawing-room. "Cuthbert," whispered Elma, "I’m so frightened. Take me in." "I’m frightened too," whispered Cuthbert.