ngs already."

I had a feeling that Jenny glanced at me, but I did not look at Jenny. I
did not even do the sum, though it was easy arithmetic.

"But to-day--well, in the first place I've got my commission--and in the
second Aunt Sarah's gone to London for a week."

"I congratulate you on the commission."

"And you're loftily indifferent about Aunt Sarah?" he asked, laughing.
"I say, though, come along! Are you a starter, Mr. Austin?"

I declined the invitation, but I managed to keep them well in sight--and
my deliberate opinion is that Jenny pulled. She could have won, I swear
it, if she had liked; as it was, she was beaten by a length. The lad was
ingenuously triumphant. "Science is beginning to tell," he declared.
"You won't hold your lead long!"

"Sometimes it's considered polite to let a lady win," Jenny suggested.

"Oh, come! If she challenges she must take her chance in fair fight."

"Then what chance have we poor women?" asked deceptive Jenny--who could
have won the race.

"You beat us in some things, I admit. Brains, very often, and, of
course, charm and all that sort of thing." He paused a moment, blushed a
little, and added, "And--er--of course--out of sight in moral
qualities."

I liked his "moral qualities." It hinted that reverence was alive in
him. I am not sure it did not indicate that the reverence due to woman
in the abstract was supremely due to the woman by his side.

"Out of sight in moral qualities?" she repeated thoughtfully. "Yes, I
suppose even a woman may hope that that's true. Don't you think so, Mr.
Austin?"

"It has always been conceded in civilized communities," I agreed.

"What I hate about that fellow Octon--Oh, I beg pardon--isn't he a
friend of yours?"

"I know him pretty well. He's rather interesting."

"I hate the fellow's tone about--about that sort of thing. Cheap, I call
it. But I don't suppose he does it to you; you wouldn't stand it."

"I'm very patient with my friends," said Jenny.

"Friends! You and that--! Oh, well, let's have another gallop."

The gallop brought us in full view of Fillingford Manor; it lay over
against us in the valley, broad expanses of meadow and of lawn leading
up to a formal garden, beyond which rose the long low red-brick facade
half covered with ivy, and a multitude of twisting chimneys.

"Jolly old place, isn't it?" cried Lacey. "I say, wouldn't you like to
see over it? I don't expect Aunt Sarah showed you much!"

"I should like