muttered Jack Howard, a little maliciously.

"Well, I resign," said Dick, with the air of a martyr. "But really I don't see what we can do. We can't have races, because the ground's as hard as nails, and the poor dear beasties would lame themselves, and we can't have a yachting contest, because all the Squadron, and the crack boats, have gone off to Newport; and tennis is a bore, and dancing is a nuisance, and you look down on my healthy little device, so cudgel your own brains, my dears, mine refuse to evolve another iota of an idea!" And Miss Darling pulled out her cigarette-case and devoted herself to a minute inspection of its contents.

"Well, I am sure, the only things left to us are theatricals, or tableaux," said Esther, piteously; "the latter are simply odious, so it must be the former. After all, it's strange how one always does come back to theatricals; they always seem most satisfactory in the end."

"Because we all believe ourselves to be the one great actor of the future," said Mr. Tremain, with a smile; "it's only opportunity that we lack, not genius; and it's only other people's stupidity that fails to recognise our talents."

"You needn't count me in, Esther dear," cried Dick; "I never could act worth a cent, and what's more I hate it, pretending to be ever so many qualities that one is not, and never succeeding a third part as well as the most tuppenny-ha'penny actress at the Bowery!"

"Dick's severe," laughed Baby Leonard, "because the first and only time she was to have appeared in public the committee were obliged to ask her to resign, she made love in such a vigorous fashion, and charged the jeune premier as though he were a five-barred gate, and over him she would go, willy-nilly. She frightened him terribly, and he refused to go on with his rôle if Miss Darling continued in hers."

"Baby dearly loves a sell," remarked Dick, good-naturedly, when the laugh at her expense had subsided; "but she's quite right, I'm quite too awfully horrid when it comes to making believe." With which little home thrust Miss Darling settled back in her chair beamingly.

"Then, since acting it is to be, let's settle the play," said Jack Howard. "It's always a long business, and we haven't any too much time at our disposal."

"There's School," suggested Miss James, "or Ours, or The Romance of a Poor Young Man; and oh, doesn't that make one weep for poor Montague?"

"Oh, how sentimental!" cried Dick. "Why don't you have something jolly, like The Mikado, or Ruddigore, or even Patience? There's something more in any one of them, than in all your love and moonshine plays put together."

"But since you refuse to join our company, Dick, isn't it a little grasping on your part to wish to coerce our choice?" said Esther, mischievously.

"I am dumb," answered Dick, shutting her mouth firmly, and only letting her laughing eyes glance merrily from one to another, as the discussion waxed fast and furious, and threatened to end in tears and temper.

It settled itself down at last, however, into a comedy, or melodrama, and a farce; and when, to end all further embarrassment, Mr. Tremain suggested a ballot to decide, it was accepted unanimously. The result gave the first preference to The Ladies' Battle, the second to the ever fresh Box and Cox.

"Of course you all know I don't act," said Mrs. Newbold, prettily, and withdrawing gracefully from all contest over the rôles. "I never like anything so much as being wardrobe mistress and prompter, so I shall elect myself into those positions at once, and that clears off one superfluous woman."

Nor would she listen to any of the protestations and entreaties of her companions; she put her hands over her ears, and shook her head, until every little golden curl danced again, as she cried, laughingly: "It's no use, I don't hear you, and I'm not to be moved. I have chosen my favourite characters, and I won't give them up. Now then," bringing down her hands, "let us dispose of the rôles. Baby, you must be Léonie de Villegontier, you will look the character to perfection; Rosalie, whose forte though you may not think it, is comedy, shall be Mrs. Bouncer, in the farce; Jack, will you take De Grignon's rôle? And you, Philip, I know Henri is an old friend in your hands, will you represent him once more?"

"And who is to be the Countess, Esther?" asked Miss James, with a little smile. "Are you keeping her part for some special favourite who has not yet arrived? It's the most important rôle of all, and should be well taken, or the play will prove terribly flat."

"Have no fear, Rose," cried out Dick, forgetful of her vow of silence, "I know, my genius is once more to the front; for whom, of course, should Esther be keeping that part, except for the cleverest actress of you all—Patricia Hildreth—don't you know, pretty Patty——" She stopped as suddenly as she began, and, flushing crimson, stole a deprecatory look at Mr. Tremain's cold quiet face, which at that moment caught a reflection of her own painful blush.

"I beg your pardon," she murmured under her breath; and there followed a moment's constraint, broken immediately, however, by Philip asking quite naturally and easily:

"Then you are expecting Miss Hildreth, Mrs. Newbold? It is many years since I last saw her—act."

And then, just in time to save Esther's confusion, the luncheon-gong sounded, and the council broke up, straying off in twos and threes towards the dining-room.

"It's all very well," said Dick Darling, scoffingly, to Freddy Slade, as they sauntered along together, "having these miserable theatricals—they might as well have dumb-crambo at once, and be done with it—and, for my part, I can't see that poor George comes into it any better than he did with Baby and me, though Esther was so sharp about its being his birthday."

"Oh, George can pay the shot," answered Freddy, carelessly.

"I'm sure it's what he's always at, poor dear," retorted Dick, sharply; and as by this time they had reached the lunch-room, their argument came to an end.