the neighbourhood. How many can dine with comfort in the old
banqueting-hall, do you suppose?"

"About five-and-forty, I should think."

"Five-and-forty! I remember that we sat down sixty to dinner when I
came of age, but then we were a little crowded; so we will limit the
number to fifty."

"Are you going to have fifty people to dinner?" asked Philip aghast.

"Certainly; I shall ask you to come and help me to write the
invitations presently. I have prepared a list; and will you kindly
send over to Bell at Roxham. I wish to speak to him, he must bring his
men over to do up the old hall a bit; and, by the way, write to
Gunter's and order a man-cook to be here on Tuesday, and to bring with
him materials for the best dinner for fifty people that he can supply.
I will see after the wine myself; we will finish off that wonderful
port my grandfather laid down. Now, bustle about, my lad, we have no
time to lose; we must get all the notes out to-day."

Philip started to execute his orders, pretty well convinced in his own
mind that his father was taking leave of his senses. Who ever heard of
a dinner being given to fifty people before, especially in a house
where such rare entertainments had always been of a traditionally
select and solemn nature? The expense, too, reflected Philip, would be
large; a man of his father's age had, in his opinion, no right to make
such ducks-and-drakes of money that was so near to belonging to
somebody else. But one thing was clear: his father had set his mind
upon it, and when once that was the case to try to thwart him was more