as always something like home about dear old Bannington to me,
with a sniff of the sea when you first stepped out of the carriage at
the door.

The big comfortable old landau with its pair of strong horses had now,
however, given place to a smart motor car, upholstered like a little
drawing-room.

My cousin, Lord St. Nivel, was certainly fully up to date, and his
sister, Lady Ethel, was, if possible, a little more so. They were
twins. Left orphans as children, the two had grown up greatly attached
to one another naturally, and being the sole survivors of a very rich
family and inheriting all its savings and residues, they had an
extremely good time of it together without any great desire to exchange
their happy brother and sisterhood for the bonds of matrimony. Still
they were very young, being only four-and-twenty.

I spent a very happy ten days with them in the glorious old mansion
full of recollections and relics of bygone ages. Its very red brick
peacefulness had a soothing effect upon me, and I will defy any one to
experience greater comfort than we did coming in tired out after a
day's tramp after the partridges--for St. Nivel was an advocate of
"rough" shooting--and sitting round the great blazing fire of logs in
the hall while Ethel poured out our tea.

I will admit that Ethel and I indulged in a mild flirtation; we always
did when we met, especially when we had not seen one another for some
time, which was the case in the present instance.

Still it was only a _cousinly_ flirtation and never went beyond a
pressure of the hand, or on very rare occasions a kiss, when we met by
chance perhaps, in the gloaming of the evening, in one of the long, old
world corridors, when no one was about.

Shooting almost every day, I soon got back into my old form again.

"Yes, you'll do," remarked my cousin, when I brought down my seventh
"rocketter," in succession the day before the royal shoot. "If you
shoot like that to-morrow, Bill, you'll be asked to Sandringham again!"

A few words from my cousin to the courteous old secretary had gained me
the invitation I so desired; I was determined to do my very best to
keep up my reputation as a good sporting shot. We motored over the
next morning; Ethel with us. It was always understood that St. Nivel's
invitations included her, in fact, she was a decided favourite in the
royal circle, and being an expert photographer, handy with her
snapshotter, always had something i