At last the evening arrived. Invitations had been sent every where. It was expected that the house would be crowded. My father even ventured to make a personal request that I would adorn myself as well as possible. I did the best I could, and went to the drawing-room to receive the expected crowds. The hour came and passed, but no one appeared. My father looked a little troubled, but he and John waited in the drawing-room. Servants were sent down to see if any one was approaching. An hour passed. My father looked deeply enraged. Two hours passed. Still no one came. Three hours passed. I waited calmly, but my father and John, who had all the time been drinking freely, became furious. It was now midnight, and all hope had left them. They had been treated with scorn by the whole county. The servants were laughing at my father’s disgrace. The proud array in the different rooms was all a mockery. The elaborate fire-works could not be used. My father turned his eyes, inflamed by anger and strong drink, toward me. “She’s a d----d bad investment,” I heard him say. “I told you so,” said John, who did not deign to look at me; “but you were determined.” They then sat drinking in silence for some time. “Sold!” said my father, suddenly, with an oath. John made no reply. “I thought the county would take to her. She’s one of their own sort,” my father muttered. “If it weren’t for you they might,” said John; “but they ain’t overfond of her dear father.” “But I sent out the _invites_ in her name.” “No go anyhow.” “I thought I’d get in with them all right away, hobnob with lords and baronets, and maybe get knighted on the spot.” John gave a long scream of laughter. “You old fool!” he cried; “so that’s what you’re up to, is it? Sir John--ha, ha, ha! You’ll never be made Sir John by parties, I’m afraid.” “Oh, don’t you be too sure. I’m not put down. I’ll try again,” he continued, after a pause. “Next year I’ll do it. Why, she’ll marry a lord, and then won’t I be a lord’s father-in-law? What do you say to that?” “When did you get these notions in your blessed head?” asked John. “Oh, I’ve had them--It’s not so much for myself, Johnnie--but for you. For if I’m a lord you’ll be a lord too.” “Lord Potts. Ha, ha, ha!” “No,” said my father, with some appearance of vexation, “not that; we’ll take our title the way all the lords do, from the estates. I’ll be Lord Brandon, and when I die you’ll get the title.” “And that’s your little game. Well, you’ve played such good little games in your life that I’ve nothing to say, except--‘Go it!’” “She’s the one that’ll give me a lift.” “Well, she ought to be able to do something.” By this time I concluded that I had done my duty and prepared to retire. I did not wish to overhear any of their conversation. As I walked out of the room I still heard their remarks: “Blest if she don’t look as if she thought herself the Queen,” said John. “It’s the diamonds, Johnnie.”