young men from the garden and stable to enter.

But here there was a hitch in the arrangements. The cook, in a bad
temper, smarting with disapproval of the whole business, had refused to
join the others, and, as nothing could be done without her, Mr. Wedmore
had to penetrate into the servants' hall, where he found her sitting in
state, and, luckily, dressed for the occasion.

Never in his life had Mr. Wedmore exerted himself so much to please any
woman as he now did to soften the outraged feelings of the cook, who was
a stout, red-faced woman, whose days of comeliness and charm were long
since gone by. He at last succeeded in inducing her to accompany him to
the hall, where he arrived in triumph, with a flushed face and nervous
manner, after an interval which had been put to great advantage by the
younger gentlemen of the party, who were all anxious to dance with the
prettiest housemaid.

Their eagerness had the effect of annoying the rest of the maids, and
effectually spoiling whatever enjoyment they might have got out of the
dance in the circumstances, while it by no means pleased the ladies of
the family and their friends, who stood a little apart and whispered to
each other that this sort of thing was bound to be a failure, and why
couldn't papa, dear old, stupid papa, leave _them_ out of the affair,
and let the boys have a romp in the servants' hall without their
assistance?

The pause had made the ladies so frigid and the men-servants so shy, the
pretty housemaid so merry and the plain ones so solemn, that disaster
threatened the gathering, when Mr. Wedmore and the cook made their
opportune appearance.