They were now entering the great lodge-gates, which were thrown wide; and the marks of a considerable number of wheels showed that, early as they seemed, they were far from the earliest. A sober-suited man, like one of the villagers, stood guard to keep the little curious village children outside the grounds, and out of the way of the carriages. A little on, and you saw that it was a gala day at Fair Manor, for the fountain in the middle of the front lawn was playing splendidly. The rich fragrance of the orange-flowers, from the large row of trees along the house-front, floated deliciously through the still, warm atmosphere. As they descended from the carriage at the broad steps of the front door, what was their surprise to see, standing to receive them, Tom Boddily, arrayed in a plain, dark, out-of-livery suit, who bowed with a quiet, arch smile, but with a _savoir faire_, which showed that he was at home in such an office. Tom informed them that the company were all in the garden, where the tea would be served, and said the ladies were recommended not to take off their bonnets. He led the way through the fine wide and lofty hall running through the house, and to the foot of the steps at the other door, where, with another very _au fait_ bow, he pointed to a large canopy on poles, on the lawn, where a considerable company of guests were standing about. “Now, there’s an instance of the quick eye for business which even the lady Quakers have,” said Mr. Woodburn, as he led on his comely wife. “Mrs. Heritage saw in a moment, at our haymaking, the jewel of a serving-man in Tom Boddily.” The next moment Mr. and Mrs. Woodburn, and the young ladies, were received with the warmest welcome by Mr. and Mrs. Heritage, and Miss Heritage, the latter of whom kissed Letty and Ann affectionately. They saw George already there, and Thorsby, looking all radiance with good spirits. They were introduced to the different persons unknown to them, consisting of a “mixed medley,” as some people are fond of calling it, of the Quaker world and the outer world. Amid the ordinary attire of those, in Friends’ phrase, “not in the Society,” gleamed the subdued hues, French grey and dove-colour, the dresses of a number of young Quaker girls, in their neat little transparent and delicately-drawn book-muslin caps. More matronly lady Friends showed their dark-brown or russet colour gowns, white muslin handkerchiefs over their shoulders, and caps of thicker fabric and plainer style.