Contrary to Elsie's expectations, it was decided by the elders of the
party that all should remain to tea.

As the others returned to the drawing-room on leaving the table, she stole
out upon the moonlighted veranda. Gazing wistfully down the avenue, was
she thinking of one probably even then on his way to the Oaks--thinking of
him and his disappointment at not finding her here?

"It's a nice night, this," remarked Arthur's voice at her side, "I say,
Elsie, suppose we bury the hatchet, you and I."

"I never had any enmity towards you, Arthur," she answered, still gazing
straight before her.

"Well, it's odd if you hadn't; I gave you cause enough, as you did me by
your niggardly refusal to lend me a small sum, on occasions when I was
hard up. But I'm willing to let by-gones be by-gones, if you are."

"Certainly; I should be glad to forget all that has been unpleasant in the
past."

"You have improved wonderfully since I saw you last: you were a pretty
girl then, but now you are without exception the most superbly beautiful,
graceful, accomplished, and intelligent woman I ever saw."

"I do not like flattery, Arthur," she answered, turning coldly away.

"Pooh! the truth's never flattery; I declare if we were not so nearly
related, I'd marry you myself."