Roger Ingleton, Minor Part 41

All serene, Raff. Keep it mum, and you shall have the threepenny.

Jolly heavy box that--that's the cocoa-nuts."

"Oh, you're going to have a feast, are you?" said Raffles.

"Getting on that way," said Tom. "We can't ask you, you know, because you'll have to wait. But you shall have some of the leavings if you back us up."

With locked doors that night Tom and Jill unpacked and took stock of their commissariat.

"Thirty-six herrings cut up in four," said Tom, with an arithmetical precision which would have gratified Mr Armstrong, "makes 144 goes of herring. If every man-jack turns up, that'll only be six goes short, and if you and I sit out of it, only four. We might cheek in a head or two by accident to make that up."

"Who will cook them?" asked Jill.

"Oh, we can do that, I fancy, on a tray or something. Then six cocoa- nuts into 150 will be twenty-five. You'll have to cut each one into twenty-five bits, Jill. Then one bun apiece, and--oh, the ice! How on earth are we to slice that up? There's about a soup-plate full.

Couldn't get strawberry, so he's sent coffee."

"Ugh!" said Jill; "I'll give up my share."

"I did my best," said Tom. "It's not my fault strawberries are out of season."

"Of course not. You're awfully clever, Tom. What should I have done without you?"

"Good old Jilly! What about plates?"

The consultation lasted far into the night.

Next morning the post brought a dozen or so of polite notes which sent the hearts of the hospitable pair into their mouths. The first they opened was from the Duke of Somewhere, who gravely "accepted with pleasure Mr and Miss Oliphant's polite invitation."

Several of the others were acceptances--one or two refusals.

"Five scratched already," said Tom. "That'll make it all right for the herrings."

In the afternoon Dr Brandram called. He carried his invitation card in his hand.

"What game are you at now?" he demanded.

"Oh, I say, Doctor, keep it quiet! You'll come, won't you? There'll be a tidy spread--enough to go all round; and the Duke and his lot are coming, and we expect the Grenadiers."

"Doctor," said Jill, "we shall depend on you so much. Do come early!"

Dr Brandram drove back to Yeld in a dazed condition of mind. He was tempted to telegraph to the Duke and the county generally; to set a body of police to prevent any one entering the Maxfield gates; to shut the two miscreants up in the coal-cellar; to run away, and not return till next week.

But after an hysterical consultation with himself, he decided that it was too late to do anything but cast in his lot with the other victims, and go dressed in all his best to Miss Oliphant's "At Home," and do what he could to steer her and her graceless brother out of their predicament.

As the fateful hour approached, Tom began to be a little nervous. He had not antic.i.p.ated the vast number of small details demanding his personal attention.

For instance, there was the cooking of the herrings. Jill had n.o.bly undertaken that task at the drawing-room fire, which was the most capacious. But then, if they ran it too fine, the guests might arrive while the fish were still fizzling on the tray. If, on the other hand, they were cooked too soon, they would be lukewarm by the time the guests came to sit down to them. Again, there were the starlights and Roman candles to get into position outside, and arrangements had to be made for their protection from the damp November mist. Then, too, the faithless Grenadiers had not turned up, which necessitated Jill deserting her herrings and privately practising the Goblin polka, in view of possible emergencies. Further, the table had to be laid, and every guest's "go" of buns, and cocoa-nut, and coffee-ice, doled out in readiness. And at the last moment there arose a difficulty in raising the requisite number of knives, forks, spoons, and plates. Then he discovered that the covers were still on the drawing-room chairs and the dust-cloth on the floor, and much time and trouble was necessary for their removal. Finally, he and Jill had to dress to receive their guests.

"I think it will be a jolly evening," said he somewhat doubtfully, as they hurried to their rooms.

"I'm sure it will," said Jill, whose mind had not once been clouded by a doubt. "The herrings will be cold, that's the only thing. But they may think that's the newest fashion."

"Look sharp and dress, anyhow," said Tom, "because you've got to cut them in fours and stick them round on the plates, and it's half-past six already."

Half an hour later a grand carriage and pair drove up to the door, and Raffles solemnly announced--

"His Grace the Duke of Somewhere, and the Ladies Marigold."

Miss Oliphant's evening party had begun!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

MISS JILL OLIPHANT AT HOME.

When His Grace, who had been a good deal puzzled by his abrupt, under- stamped invitation, stepped, head in air, into the drawing-room, he was somewhat taken aback to discover neither the captain nor his charming elder daughter, but instead, to be greeted by a little girl, nervously put forward by a small boy, and saying--

"Oh, duke, _do_ you mind coming? I hope you'll enjoy the party so much.

There'll be some dancing presently, and supper as soon as all the others come."

"You're the first," said Tom. "Never mind, the others won't be long.

Like to read the newspaper, or take a turn round?"

Mentally he was calculating how he should manage to squeeze in the duke's two daughters, who hadn't been invited, at his hospitable board.

The duke smiled affably.

"We are rather early, but Miss Rosalind will excuse--"

"Oh, she's away--so is father. This is my party and Tom's. Oh, duke, do try and like it!" said Jill, taking the great man's hand.

The duke cast a scared look over his shoulder at his daughters, who were staring in a somewhat awestruck manner at their two small hosts.

"If the girls would like to begin dancing," suggested Tom, "Jill can play her piece now, and you can take one, and I'll take the other.

It'll keep the things going, you know, till the rest turn up."

At this juncture Dr Brandram was announced, greatly to Tom's delight, who, among so many strangers, was beginning to feel a little shy.

"That's all right," said he. "Good old Brandy! you lead off with one of the Marigold girls, while I stop here and do the how-d'ye-do's."

The doctor, with a serious face, led His Grace aside.

"This appears to be a freak of the two young people," said he. "They are the only members of the family at home. I am very sorry you have been victimised."

"Tut, tut," said the duke, recovering his good-humour rapidly, "I don't mean to be a victim at all. I mean to enjoy myself; so do you, doctor.

Girls," said he to his daughters, "you must see the youngsters through this. Ha, ha! what is the rising generation coming to, to be sure."

Arrivals now began to drop in smartly, and as Tom looked round on the gradually filling drawing-room, a mild perspiration broke out on his ingenious brow.