“What in the world has become of that bugler?” queried Croly, peering among the trees and shrubs.

“Were you wanting to speak to him, Mr. Croly?” asked Rosie, gravely but with some difficulty restraining a desire to laugh.

“No, not particularly, but I have a slight curiosity to see him and ask for another specimen or so of his skill.”

“He seems to be skilful in making his disappearance, doesn’t he?” laughed Rosie.

“He does, and I suppose I shall have to give up the hope of making his acquaintance,” returned Croly. “But it is really singular that no one of us has been able to get sight of him.”

“It is indeed,” assented Mary Keith. “I have been watching closely, but without obtaining so much as a glimpse of him.”

“Well, cousin, don’t despair; perhaps it will be better luck next time,” Herbert said laughingly. “Ah, we are just in time, for I see they are setting the tables beneath the trees.”

“Oh, that’s good,” cried Lulu. “I think it is such good fun to eat out of doors.” Then aside to Mr. Lilburn, “O Cousin Ronald, can’t you do some of those things you did at Cousin Betty’s wedding? It would be such fun.”

“Wait and see, bit lassie,” the old gentleman returned with a smile.

Just then Walter came bounding to meet them. “I’m glad to see you,” he said half breathlessly. “I’ve been hunting all around for you, because tea is nearly ready and Zoe was afraid you might not be here in season.”

“Eh, laddie,” laughed his brother Herbert, “so you forgot, did you, that we had appetites and watches?—the first to remind us of our need of food, the second to tell us when it was likely to be served.”

“I thought it kinder to hunt you up than to trust to appetites and watches to bring you in good season to get everything at its best,” returned Walter good-humoredly.

Then stepping close to Mr. Lilburn’s side, he asked in an undertone, “Cousin Ronald, please won’t you make some of the same kind of fun for us that you did at Cousin Betty’s wedding?”

At that Mr. Lilburn laughed, saying: “Well, well, laddie, you and your niece here (you’re Lulu’s uncle, aren’t you?) seem to be of one mind in regard to that matter. We’ll see what can be done.”

“Walter’s niece!” laughed Lulu. “He’s younger than I am and would be a little uncle for me.”

“So I would,” laughed Walter in turn, “but if your father is my brother I suppose you must be my niece, and you’d better mind what I say to you.”

“I will—when it suits me,” she replied in merry retort.

They were now nearing that part of the lawn where they had left the older members of the party and the little ones.

“Ah, I am glad to see you,” said Zoe, coming forward to meet them, “for it is nearly time for the summons to tea.”

“Yes; we hope we have not kept you waiting?” returned several voices.

“Oh, no,” she replied cheerily, “you are just in good season. I heard your father inquiring where you were only a moment since, Lulu.”

“Oh, did you, Aunt Zoe? Well, I’ll tell him,” replied Lulu, hurrying away in his direction, for she could see him seated under a tree at some little distance, with Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore, Grandma Elsie, Mamma Vi, and several others. Lulu stole up behind him, put her arms round his neck, and laid her cheek to his.

“Ah!” he said, taking hold of the small white hands, drawing her around in front of him, and seating her on his knee, “where has this eldest daughter of mine been for the last hour or so?”

“Down by the lake with the older ones, papa,” she replied, softly stroking his beard with one hand and smiling archly into the eyes gazing so fondly upon her. “I thought you were always willing that I should go about the grounds here without asking special permission.”

“Yes, so I am, provided you do not go on the water without my knowledge and consent.”

“I wanted to, but I didn’t,” was her reply. “You didn’t think I would, papa, when you had forbidden me?”

“Certainly not, daughter. It would be a sad thing indeed if I could not trust you out of my sight.”

Their conversation had been carried on in an undertone and the others were not listening, but chatting among themselves.

In the mean while Cousin Ronald had drawn Zoe aside and held a moment’s low-toned conversation with her, which seemed to interest and amuse her. Then Edward joined them, Zoe seemed to repeat to him what the old gentleman had said, Edward responded with a smile, then the three separated, and the young host and hostess—the mother having resigned to them her duties in that line for the evening—proceeded to seat their guests at the tables, and servants appeared bearing the viands prepared for their entertainment.

Mary Keith, Marian McAlpine, and Will Croly were all three at one and the same table, Mr. Lilburn, Harold, Herbert, Rosie, and Evelyn Leland sharing it with them. The last two and the brothers exchanged furtive glances of amused expectancy. Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore, Grandma Elsie, Walter, and the Raymonds occupied the next two; the rest of the company others not far distant.

Almost every one seemed in gay spirits and all were blessed with good appetites, the satisfying of which kept them very busy for a time, though not to the entire exclusion of mirthful chat and laughter.

But when the more substantial dishes had been duly discussed, carried away, and replaced by cakes, fruits, and ices, in a moment of comparative silence there came a sudden sound as of flapping of wings overhead, followed by a shrill call—

“Lu-lu! Polly wants a cake. It’s supper-time and Polly hungry.”

“Why, Polly, how did you get out and fly all the way here?” cried Lulu in astonishment, and looking up, as did almost every one else, among the branches overhead. “I didn’t think you knew the way; and there is plenty for you to eat at home.”

“Lu-lu! where are you? Polly’s hungry. Polly wants a cup of coffee,” came in return in what seemed evidently Polly’s own shrill tones.

“Go home and get it, then,” laughed Lulu. “You weren’t invited here, and well-behaved people always wait to be asked before they go visiting.”

“Polly’s hungry. Poor old Polly—poor old soul!” came in response.

“Why, where is she?” queried Grace, peering up among the branches of the tree from which the sound seemed to come.

“I don’t know,” said Lulu. “I can’t just see her, but she has a good hiding-place up there where the branches and leaves are so thick. But how she found her way here I can’t think. Oh!” as she suddenly caught sight of Mr. Lilburn’s face and noted the twinkle of fun in his eye.

“Perhaps you have given her too much liberty, Lulu,” her father said in so grave a tone she was at loss to decide whether or not his suspicions too had been aroused.

“So you have a poll-parrot, Miss Lu? Quite a talker too,” said Croly. “I should like to make her acquaintance. Can you not tempt her to come down?”

“I’ll try to keep her at home after this, papa,” said Lulu; “but shall I see if I can coax her to come down now?”

“You may if you choose,” he answered with unmoved gravity.

“Tell her she can have a cup of coffee and anything else she wants if she will come,” added Grandma Elsie, with a look of amusement.

So Lulu called, “Polly, Polly, come here and you shall have a cup of the nicest coffee and anything else you want.”

Then for a minute or more everybody seemed to be looking and listening; but Polly neither answered nor showed herself, and at length baby Ned broke the silence with, “I ’spect Polly’s done ’way to our house adain. She won’t tum when Lu talls her.”

“She seems to have taken her departure very suddenly,” remarked Rosie. “Strange she should do so if she were really as hungry as she pretended.”

“I don’t b’lieve she was, Aunt Rosie,” said little Elsie, “for nobody ever gets starved at our house, ’cause papa always buys plenty for everybody to eat.”

“It’s good food too, and well cooked,” added Grace.

“I think that is all true, Mr. Croly, and I hope you will come and see for yourself,” laughed Violet.

“Hush, hush, hush! you talk too much, Polly,” came in a shrill scream apparently from the top of the tree; then in a coaxing, complaining tone, “Poor Polly’s hungry! It’s breakfast-time. Polly wants a biscuit. Polly wants a cup of coffee.”

“Why, she’s quite a talker. I’d really like to get a sight of her,” said Croly, making a more determined effort than before to do so.

“Humph! savin’ all your pity for hungry birds! Never a bit of it to give a starvin’ human creeter,” snarled a man’s voice that seemed to come from a clump of bushes a yard or two in Croly’s rear. Every head at once turned in that direction, but the speaker seemed invisible.

It was Grandma Elsie who replied: “There is abundance of food here, and I would have no one starve or suffer at all from hunger. Step up to the table and your wants shall be supplied.”

“There is no empty seat at your table, ma’am,” snarled the voice.

“True,” she returned, “but there are abundance of seats near at hand, and you can carry your food to one of them when you have received it, and there sit and eat at your leisure.”

“Why, where on earth is the fellow?” asked Croly of Harold, speaking in an undertone. “I cannot catch so much as a glimpse of him.”

“It really looks very mysterious,” returned Harold, with difficulty repressing a smile. “What had better be done about it, do you think?”

“Surely that is for your mother to say,” returned Croly; “but if I were in her place I should have the grounds thoroughly searched for that impudent fellow, who is probably a thieving tramp.”

“Hardly, I think,” said Harold, “for they are somewhat scarce hereabouts; at least, we seldom see one.”

“Ah? then you are fortunate in that respect.”

“But how odd that both bird and man should be invisible!” exclaimed Mary Keith. “I must own that I cannot understand it.”

“No,” remarked Herbert gravely; “there are many things happening in this world that we cannot understand.”

“But it surprises me to see how easily you take all this. Now I should want to hunt him out and send him about his business before he does any mischief.”

“Perhaps that might be the better plan,” returned Harold. “Here, Prince,” as Max’s dog was seen slowly approaching, “hunt out that fellow yonder,” pointing to the clump of bushes from which the voice had seemed to come. “Sick him! sick him!”

At that Prince pricked up his ears, wagged his tail, and rushed toward the bushes barking furiously; but only for a moment or two, evidently finding no one there. He came slowly back with lowered tail and drooping ears, plainly feeling that he had been sold, and mortified that he had fallen into the trap laid for his unwary feet.

“Poor fellow,” said Herbert, “that chap seems as hard to find as the bugler was a while ago; but never mind—you did your best.”

“Take him to the kitchen, Sam, and comfort him with a good dinner,” said Grandma Elsie to a servant.

“Well, Croly, what is it?” laughed Herbert. “You really look as if you had put on your thinking cap.”

“Yes, so I have,” returned Croly, glancing searchingly about, “and the conclusion I’ve reached is that we must have a ventriloquist among us. The next question is, who is he?”

“A ventriloquist!” exclaimed Mary Keith. “How delightful! Such fun as we shall have if that is really the case! But who can it be? You, captain?” looking searchingly at him.

“I should be very willing to plead guilty to the charge could I do so truthfully, Cousin Mary,” he replied in a playful tone.

“Oh, no, I think it can hardly be the captain,” said Croly. “He was not down at the lake with us, and doubtless the invisible bugler was the ventriloquist, or the ventriloquist the bugler, whichever way you prefer to put it.”

“There! I dare say you are right,” she returned. “Now, Harold, it was you, wasn’t it? You may just as well own up first as last.”

“But really, Mary, I have nothing to own up to,” he said; “you are by no means on the right track.”

“Then who could it have been but you, Herbert?” she queried, turning laughing eyes upon him.

“I can truthfully aver that it was not I, Cousin Mary,” returned Herbert with grave earnestness, though there was a twinkle of fun in his eye that half convinced her he was in jest.

She wore a puzzled expression for a moment, then turning suddenly to Lulu, “I wonder now if it can have been you?” she said, giving the child a searching look.

“Oh, no, indeed, Miss Mary,” laughed Lulu. “I only wish I could say yes, for there’s nothing I’d like better than to be able to make such sport for myself and others.”

“But you know who it is?”

“Why do you think so, Miss Mary?”

“Something in your look and manner tells me that you know all about it; besides, you were on the shore while we in the boat heard the sounds of the bugle apparently coming from among the tree-tops.”

“Really, now, Miss Mary, I don’t see that all that proves anything against me,” laughed Lulu. “Do you think it does, papa?”

“Not at all,” replied her father. “A ventriloquist on the boat might, I think, make it seem to others that his voice came from among the tree-tops on the shore. But really, Mr. Croly,” turning toward the young man as he spoke, “I do not see that you have any positive proof that there is a ventriloquist here.”

“Why, sir, did we not hear a strange voice speaking apparently from yonder clump of bushes, and on examination find that there was no one there?”

“True; but who shall say it may not have been some one very nimble and fleet of foot who made his escape all too quickly to be caught?”

“Well, sir,” returned Croly slowly and with meditative air, “I suppose that is just possible. Perhaps too the same fellow was the bugler whom we all heard but none of us could see.”

“Edward,” said Mr. Dinsmore gravely, “you may as well have the premises searched for that fellow; for one so adroit at suddenly disappearing from sight might readily enter the house and carry off valuables.”

“Yes, sir; I’ll see that he does not,” Edward replied with equal gravity, but carefully abstaining from an exchange of glances with Mr. Lilburn.

“Take care that he doesn’t steal your parrot, Lu,” said Zoe. “She’s worth stealing, and as she is such a good talker I’d be loath to lose her if she were mine.”

“Indeed so should I,” exclaimed Lulu. “I wouldn’t part with her for a great deal; especially as she was a present from papa.”

“We will be careful not to leave her here when we go home to-night,” said the captain.

“I hope you are not afraid to trust her with us, captain,” said Zoe. “I assure you we would be good to her, and I dare say she would prove a great amusement to my babies.”

“I have not a doubt that you would treat her well, sister Zoe,” replied the captain, “and if Lulu is inclined to lend her for a few days, I shall not object.”

“Then I’ll not take any trouble to hunt her up when we’re ready to go home,” said Lulu.

All had now satisfied their appetites, the tables were presently forsaken, and the company gathered in groups here and there under the trees, some amusing themselves in playing games, others with conversation; but it had been a long June day, and before the sun had fairly set most of them were on their homeward way; for Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore and Grandma Elsie, hardly rested after their journey, began to look weary. Mr. Lilburn, at the urgent invitation of the captain and Violet, returned with them to Woodburn to complete his visit there, which they said had not been half long enough. Marian too was with them, so that they were quite a little party.

Grace and the little ones went directly to bed on reaching home, but the elder ones passed a pleasant hour or two on the veranda before returning.