Chapter 24

THE GARDEN-PARTY.

The morning of the garden-party arose bright and clear, and Slowbridge
awakened in a great state of excitement. Miss Chickie, having worked
until midnight that all her orders might be completed, was so overpowered
by her labors as to have to take her tea and toast in bed.

At Oldclough varied sentiments prevailed. Lady Theobald's manner was
chiefly distinguished by an implacable rigidity. She had chosen, as an
appropriate festal costume, a funereal-black _moire antique_, enlivened
by massive fringes and ornaments of jet; her jewelry being chains and
manacles of the latter, which rattled as she moved, with a sound somewhat
suggestive of bones.

Mr. Dugald Binnie, who had received an invitation, had as yet amiably
forborne to say whether he would accept it, or not. He had been out when
Mr. Burmistone called, and had not seen him.

When Lady Theobald descended to breakfast, she found him growling over
his newspaper; and he glanced up at her with a polite scowl.

"Going to a funeral?" he demanded.

"I accompany my granddaughter to this--this entertainment," her ladyship
responded. "It is scarcely a joyous occasion, to my mind."

"No need to dress yourself like that, if it isn't," ejaculated Mr.
Binnie. "Why don't you stay at home, if you don't want to go? Man's all
right, isn't he? Once knew a man by the name of Burmistone, myself. One
of the few decent fellows I've met. If I were sure this was the same man,
I'd go myself. When I find a fellow who's neither knave nor fool, I stick
to him. Believe I'll send to find out. Where's Lucia?"

What his opinion of Lucia was, it was difficult to discover. He had an
agreeable habit of staring at her over the top of his paper, and over his
dinner. The only time he had made any comment upon her, was the first
time he saw her in the dress she had copied from Octavia's. "Nice gown
that," he blurted out: "didn't get it here, I'll wager."

"It's an old dress I remodelled," answered Lucia somewhat alarmed. "I
made it myself."

"Doesn't look like it," he said gruffly.

Lucia had touched up another dress, and was very happy in the prospect of
wearing it at the garden-party.

"Don't call on grandmamma until after Wednesday," she had said to Mr.
Burmistone: "perhaps she wouldn't let me go. She will be very angry,
I am sure."

"And you are not afraid?"

"No," she answered: "I am not afraid at all. I shall not be afraid
again."

In fact, she had perfectly confounded her ladyship by her demeanor. She
bore her fiercest glance without quailing in the