"Some officious fellow warned them. I
don't know how it was," added the Doctor,
irreverently;  "but they were put against
it.  When you know that a man gets his
wine, a sound clear sherry, nutty flavour,
at twenty-four shillings a dozen—why it
speaks vols.—no, folios, my dears."

The girls presently flew away to
inaugurate the stupendous preparations fitting
for such a rare festival. The Shipton
picnic was presently buzzed about, and
talked of like a queen's visit. As the
Doctor had predicted, the open barouche
and greys, familiar enough at weddings,
were in demand;  and Mr. Ridley and
others were known to have applied eagerly
for their services. " Always at some low
Irish jockeying," growled Mr. Ridley, as
he turned away, disappointed. Polly and
Katey were presently tripping down the
street, bound for M'Intyre's, to lay in
ribbons, and a new bonnet for Polly, and
gloves, "two buttons,"  and flowers, and
those endless properties which are essential
to a festival of this kind. Alas!  there
was a long score at M'Intyre and Co.'s;
but the firm was indulgent—felt even
tenderly towards the sisters—and conspired
with them to keep Doctor Findlater in
ignorance of the amount. The firm, too,
latterly felt very much as creditors do to
a young man who is known to be coming
into a fortune, and the certainty of Polly's
advancement was well known to the smiling
ladies and gentlemen who were drawn up
behind the counters. In the choice of her
bonnet the whole establishment took quite
an interest;  Miss Mallard, at the head of
the show-rooms, Mr. Cody, who walked
the shop, and others, all joined in council.
Miss Katey was pressed to select a bonnet
also.

"I'm sure," Miss Mallard remarked,
"Lord Shipton must be thinking of getting
married. And so he ought, to get some
one to teach him how to lay out his money!
Ah, Miss Katey, I know what would be
the best step he ever took in his whole
life!"

Katey did not blush;  but pleased at
the compliment, answered earnestly, that
"Lord Shipton was not dreaming of such
things, and certainly not of her."

It was no wonder that both girls tripped
home in high spirits. This perpetual harping
on one subject, this combined assurance
of many persons, that some windy
theory is truth, has its effect in time, and
the sisters returned with a complacent
conviction that something most important
was to take place on this Shipton festival,
and that Polly's destiny was to be
determined on that day.

"Oh, my darling!"  said Katey, when
they were in the room;  "you mustn't
forget us, or give us all up!  For I am
afraid we shall have to let you go."

Then they went down and joined their
mother, who followed in the same strain;
but who put the thing in rather plainer,
if not ruder terms. She was accustomed
to call a spade a spade, and openly spoke
of her Polly's being installed at Leadersfort,
and this made that brilliant Spanish
castle rather topple, and brought a look of
pain into Katey's cheek. She had her
own little trouble besides at her heart.

CHAPTER XXVI.  ILL NEWS.

SUDDENLY enters Doctor Findlater with
a sour look on his face; for Peter, although
one of the most delightful creatures in the
world, was very variable in humour, like
most delightful creatures of his kind.

"Nice work it is," the Doctor said.
"What's this—finery for to-morrow?
Going to hang yourselves over with new
fripperies?"

"Yes, Peter, dear. Wait till you see
Polly's bonnet."

"Yes;  a wisp of muslin spread on a bit
of wire. Then you may spare those
accoutrements. You're late. They're going to
shut the gates in your faces."

"Where, Peter?"  said Polly, her cheeks
flushing with indignation. "Who!  What
are you talking of?  Who has put you
out?"

"No one,"  said he, angrily. "It's not
come to that yet. I'd give them a lesson
that did. No, I'm not come so low as that.
What d'ye say to this? They've sent the
police down after him!"

Katey did not understand. Polly did.
"What!"  she cried, faintly. "Has she
come back?"

"No;  but she's sent her brother, the
new agent that is to be. Misther Randall
Morrison, no less. A cold-blooded, hard,
Scotchified fellow, that would turn up his
nose at a glass of punch. He's come down
special. He's heard the tricks two ladies
have been going on with."

"Ah!  is that all?  Who cares for him?"
said Polly, contemptuously. "I don't!
Let him mind the tenants."

"Ah, don't talk folly!" said the Doctor,
roughly, to his darling child—to "his own
flesh and blood."  "Wasn't I in with the
child, and didn't I find that fellow in full