IN spite of the Mayor’s attitude, which was unsympathetic to the verge of discouragement, the Town Clerk was able to inform him on New Year’s morning that Miss Sarah Ann Munt had graciously consented to accept an illuminated address in commemoration of her deeds on January twenty-fifth at the Floral Hall. The news was not received graciously. Josiah had comforted himself with the not unreasonable hope that the Hussy would decline the presentation; it would be so like her to upset their plans. But no, after all, Sally preferred to behave with still deeper cussedness. She wrote a charmingly polite letter from the DepÔt of the Northern Command at Screwton, where she was at present attached, to inform the members of the Blackhampton City Council that it would give her great pleasure to attend the function on January twenty-fifth and that she was very sensible of the honor about to be conferred upon her. And that, after all, was even more like her than a refusal of the proposal would have been.

Josiah was more disconcerted than he cared to own. It was necessary to hide his feelings as far as he could, but he was not a finished dissembler, and, in addition to “that Aylett,” there were several members of the Council who seemed to enjoy the situation. Several of these received a piece of the Mayor’s mind in the course of the morning. “He didn’t know what they could be thinking of to be wastin’ the Town’s money in that way.” In other words, Josiah had decided to carry things off with a high hand.

That evening, after dinner, he sat down and wrote a letter.

It was not an easy letter to write nor was the Mayor altogether satisfied when it was written. But in the circumstances it wouldn’t do to say too much.

By return of post came a dry, rather curt note from Sally. She thanked her father for the invitation, but she had already promised Ethel that when next in Blackhampton she would stay at Park Crescent.

Josiah felt annoyed. Once more it was so like her. Somehow the reply left him less easy in his mind than ever. He would be glad when the ordeal of the twenty-fifth was over. He didn’t trust the minx. As likely as not she would play some trick or other; she was quite capable of affronting him publicly. However, the eyes of the world were upon him, he must keep a stiff upper lip, he must see that she didn’t down him.

In the meantime, from another quarter, bitter disappointment came. The high hopes of a little grandson did not materialize. Instead of a lusty Horace Josiah Cockburn bursting upon a flattered world, the inferior tribe of Gwenneths and Gwladyses had a Gwendolen added to their number. It was quite a blow. The Mayor and all his family had set their hearts on a boy. For once the successful Ethel had been less than herself. She had failed conspicuously. It was impossible to conceal the fact that people were a little disappointed with her.

Happily, Gwendolen had enough sense of proportion and right feeling to arrive according to schedule. It would have been unpardonable in her to have prevented Mrs. Doctor from attending the important function on the twenty-fifth at the Floral Hall and the even more important ceremony on the twenty-sixth when the Duke was to open the new annex to the Mayor of Blackhampton’s hospital, which at one acute moment she had threatened to do. Fortunately Gwendolen remembered herself in time. She contrived to make her appearance on January second in this vale of tears, and, although from the outset not a popular member of society, after all she was less unpopular than she might have been had she deferred her arrival until a week later.

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