heads together to think of the most sumptuous and delicate fare to offer to the aristocratic teeth. Now the idea which had occurred to me was that I could not possibly give any greater punishment to my aunt than to make this dinner party a failure. If only I could manage so that everything should go wrong, and everyone be made thoroughly uncomfortable, perhaps our aunt would be so annoyed that she would go away. As for equally annoying my father, by discourtesy to his guests, such an idea never entered my head.

I had often heard him say how much he hated these long dinners; perhaps he would be very glad if I could do anything that would prevent these tiresome people from ever coming again. I think if he had had the slightest idea how much weight some of his chance words carried with them, he would have been more careful of what he said before us children. More especially, he would not have exposed our aunt's little weaknesses.

Now it so happened that there lived in the village a retired captain in the merchant service, and his sister, a very jovial, good-natured man, with a sort of "hail-fellow-well-met " manner with every one, and an especial favourite with us children. That his manners were not very polished I must allow, but he had the kindest of hearts, and was as open and honourable a man as ever walked a deck.

His sister resembled him in almost every particular, and we were sure always of a hearty welcome at their house. Oh, the stores of curiosities that they always had to show us, brought from all parts of the world: carved ivory boxes, inlaid cabinets, exquisite specimens of lacquer from Japan, rare shells, curious dresses, and wonderful fans. Their little house was quite like a museum; and the best of it was that we were allowed to go and turn over the things just as we pleased; and I will say for us that we never abused the trust that the old captain put in us.

This intimacy with Captain and Miss Dacre was just one of the things that Aunt Mildred was most anxious to put a stop to.

"If you allow them to associate with such vulgar people, you must expect their manners to be bad," she would constantly say to our father.

"I do not see any signs of vulgarity," he would reply,

or I would stop it at once; for my part, I think they will learn a great deal more good than harm from the captain."

"Captain, indeed," sneered Aunt Mildred, "a retired merchantman; and then that odious sister! why, the last time she came to call here, she had on a blue silk dress, an Indian scarf that I suppose she had taken out of their curiosity cupboard, a straw bonnet with red ribbons, and a bird of paradise in it."

"She says her brother likes to see her wear the things he brought home," said Dora, "and she finds it very convenient to smarten up some old dress with a few curiosities from foreign parts.

Aunt Mildred shrugged her shoulders, and let the conversation drop, for she knew that it was of no use arguing with our father upon that subject. The only stipulation that she made was that they should not be asked to dinner when she was staying with us, that she might not be subject to the mortification of seeing Captain Dacre sometimes eat off his knife, or her ears be tortured by an occasional misplaced H. This is the very worst we could ever have learned from our captain, whilst the good he taught us was untold. Never to tell a lie if it were even to save our lives; never to be ashamed to confess a fault or to look any one in the face; never to do a mean or ungenerous action; whilst a simple religious faith ran as a sort of undercurrent to all his actions, not often spoken of, but felt always, and so evidently the mainspring of his life. In after days I learned to realize that the old captain had more than any one I knew the simple unquestioning faith of a little child. I must now return to my story, and particularly to that afternoon when we had passed the resolution that Aunt Mildred must be punished.

At five o'clock, as soon as she had had her afternoon tea, she went for a drive with her two little girls.

This was the moment for which I was waiting. I hurried into the drawing-room, and took out of the envelope-box an invitation card, on which was printed my father's and Mrs Vaughan's name.

Aunt Mildred was far too fashionable when she sent out her invitations to write a

note, no! she must do everything in proper style; cards were the fashion, so cards she must have.

I was greatly alarmed lest I should not find what I wanted.

"Is there one?" cries Dora, peeping in at the door.

"Yes! hurrah, half a dozen at least." I choose

one, and we conspirators

hasten off to the schoolroom, where we lock the door, and for greater security place a table and two chairs against it, although there was not the smallest likelihood of any one invading our privacy.

"You had better write it," I say to Dora, 66 as your writing is so much the best; make it rather fine and running, like Aunt Mildred's; perhaps you had better practise first on a bit of paper."

Several rough copies were made until Dora felt less nervous, and then, with a very fine steel pen, the card was filled in. "Mr Vaughan and Mrs Henry Vaughan request the pleasure of Captain and Miss Dacre's company to dinner, on the 15th inst., at half-past seven."

The card being printed, we had only the names and date to fill in, so that there was not much chance of any one suspecting the trick.

"How lovely it looks," I cry, whilst I roll upon the floor, and laugh until the tears run down my face.

"How wild she will be," said Dora; "and it will serve her right, as she will never ask the dear old things when she is here, and now they will be at her very best dinner party. Oh dear, oh dear, how could you ever think of it, Cecil."

Suppose they refuse; it is such a very short notice." "Do not suppose anything of the kind. any engagement, and are sure to come.

They never have Miss Dacre knows

that we are going to have a party, for I told her yesterday, so she will be sure to put on her very best things."

"I hope she will wear the bird of paradise," said I; "that would be a crowning triumph."

"She is quite sure to do so," said Dora, "because she told me that she always wears it in the evening when she goes out, because she has got so little hair, and it hides the bald places; but make haste, put the card in an envelope, or the letters will be gone."

This was speedily done. In a few minutes the invitation was safely consigned to the letter-box, and we knew that in another half-hour the boy would leave it at "Ship Cottage," as they called their house, on his way to the post. We did not say much to the little ones of what we had done, for we were so afraid that they might say something about it.

However, they asked us no questions, but seemed to be wonderfully excited about some secret of their own.

Whispered conversations were continually going on, shrieks of subdued laughter, whilst Bernard's face every now and then wore a peculiarly demure expression, which we never noticed except when he was going to do something more naughty than usual.

"Such fun!" said Maude; "but we are not going to tell you, are we, Bernard? This is our secret!"

"Splendid!" exclaimed Bernard, "you shall know to

morrow.

We can pay out Aunt Mildred, too," and here, again, the two children went off into such immoderate fits

of laughter, that they were obliged at last to sit down on the ground and hold their sides.

We older ones did not give much thought to their secret, as we were quite sure that we should be told what it was before long; besides, we were too much taken up with our own plans to give much heed to anything else.

If I had any misgivings as to whether I was doing right or not, I nipped them hastily in the bud. The card was gone, and there was no good bothering ourselves with what could not be undone. Dora, however, was evidently uneasy, and that night, after we had gone to bed, she could not sleep, but kept turning over and over restlessly.

"Cecil," at last she said in a subdued voice.

"Well," I reply very sleepily, for I do not want to have a discussion.

"Do you think there was any harm in sending that card?" Harm, why what harm was there in it ?"

"Well, it seems as if it were not quite right, as if it were not quite true."

"What nonsense, not being true is when we deceive; now we are not going to deceive anybody, because father and Aunt Mildred will know at breakfast time to-morrow."

"Yes; but I think we do deceive, at least," for an impatient shake from me in my bed warns her not to go too far, "that is to say, we take in the Captain and Miss Dacre; they will think Aunt Mildred wants them, and you know she does not at all."

"I wish you would think of all these kind of things before, Dora," I reply impatiently. "You do the things, and then you go bothering afterwards whether they are right or wrong. It is done now, and it is too late to think of anything." "Will they be angry, do you think, Cecil?"

"Who, Captain and Miss Dacre? No! of course not, they will know nothing at all about it.”

"No! I mean father and Aunt Mildred."

"I daresay Aunt Mildred will, and you know we meant her to be; but I should think father would be rather glad."