T

he day after we completed the green-house, I received an invitation to tea from Lady Hilliard. I expected it would be a request for another donation to the Lady's Missionary Society. I wasn't looking forward to the meeting. Although Betsy had taken financial responsibility for the green-house project, I had made several ornate finishing touches with my own funds: a small marble statue of Flora, gingerbread for the exterior crossbeams, carved wooden trim for the wainscotting, items of that nature. And all out of sheer exuberance. As a result, I found that I had exceeded my annual budget and would need to borrow funds from the next year's portion of my inheritance, and here it was only early September.

And so I was prepared with any number of excuses to give Lady Hilliard as to why I was donating nothing or at best a very small amount, at the present time. But I need not have bothered. As we enjoyed the superb repast - Lady Hilliard is justly renown as an excellent hostess - we chatted about various doings around town. She enquired after Betsy - she observed that the day she passed us on the road we seemed to be very congenial neighbors. I mentioned we had been building the green-house together. Her eyes lit up at the mention of the green-house and I realized I had made a faux pas.

Although I have few close friends in Darlington, yet I know almost everybody at least as a nodding acquaintance, as I am native to this place. And once word got out that Betsy had hired the Gimmerton Band and that we planned a jolly garden party, I found my popularity had greatly increased in town. As I prefer not to be rude or disliked I invited one and all to the party - or at least acquiesced when they invited themselves. I was then obliged to inform Betsy of the advancing army, and offered to pay for the extra guests - which, as you know, Reverend Halifax, I could scarce afford. But when I told her, Betsy only smiled at me as if I was a sweet, beloved, but rather spoilt little boy whom she could not help but indulge, and said that I should not concern myself or my purse - she was happy ("ecstatic" is actually the word she used) that I was so proud of our dear little Semiramis* - that is what we had christened the green-house in a moment of high spirits.
In spite of this I did endeavor to avoid adding to the guest list. I supposed I had forgotten myself with Lady Hilliard - I felt she was rather too grand a personage to wish to attend a garden party. But she said: "Do you have room for one more guest?" to which I replied: "Lady Hilliard, your husband is as welcome as yourself, of course."
"Neither myself or my husband" she said, "we will be out of town during that time. I had in mind my niece, Jane. If you have room for her - and a chaperone, of course, I think you will be pleased. I could not help but notice you are drawn to the painting of her likeness."

I was startled by this observation - I had indeed been stealing glances at the portrait, but did not believe I had been so obvious. She was a very pretty young woman in rather old-fashioned attire. I wanted very much to make her acquaintance.

"Can I tell her she has an invitation, dear Oliver?" asked Lady Hilliard.

(To be continued...)

* Rev. Halifax's note: Semiramis refers to the Gardens of Semiramis, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, also known as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.