"And we are to have several county gentlemen who are great in the matters of turnips, top-dressing, and Welsh mutton; four young ladies, each with a flirtation on hand; and four old ones, deep in religion and scandal, flannel and coals for the poor; so, Mr. Hardinge, you and Mr. Caradoc will be quite a double relief to us--to me, certainly."
"O, Dora, how your tongue runs on!" exclaimed Winifred.
"And then we have Lady Naseby to act as materfamilias, and play propriety for us all in black velvet and diamonds. Winny, eldest daughter of the house, is evidently unequal to the task."
"And the coming fête," said I, "is it in honour of anything in particular?"
"Yes, something very particular indeed," replied Dora.
"Of what?"
"Me."
"You!"
"My birthday--I shall be eighteen," she added, shaking back the heavy masses of her golden hair.
"And she has actually promised to have one round dance with Lord Pottersleigh," said Winny, laughing heartily.