Dalton found them all at dinner when he reached Huntersfield. He was
not in the least prepared for the scene which met his eyes--shining
mahogany, old silver and Sheffield, tall white candles, Calvin in a
snowy jacket, Mrs. Beaufort and Mrs. Paine in low-necked gowns, the
Judge and Randy in dinner-coats somewhat the worse for wear, Becky in
thin, delicate blue, with a string of pearls which seemed to George an
excellent imitation of the real thing.

He had thought that the trail of Mrs. Paine's boarding-house might be
over it all. He had known boarding-houses as a boy, before his father
made his money. There had been basement dining-rooms, catsup bottles,
and people passing everything to everybody else!

"I'm afraid I'm early," he said in his quick voice.

"Not a bit. Calvin, place a chair for Mr. Dalton."

There were fruit and nuts and raisins in a great silver epergne, with
fat cupids making love among garlands. There was coffee in Sevres cups.

Back among the shadows twinkled a priceless mirror; shutting off
Calvin's serving table was a painted screen worth its weight in gold.
It was a far cry from the catsup bottles and squalid service of
George's early days. The Bannisters of Huntersfield wore their poverty
like a plume!

The Judge carried Dalton off presently to the Bird Room. George went
with reluctance. This was not what he had come for. Becky, slim and
small, with her hair peaked up to a topknot, Becky in pale blue, Becky