grumble at other
people. And if you are angry, you must not bark, nor bite him, but take
it patiently."

What more she might have added I do not know, for her harangue was
interrupted by old John the groom, who was, like myself, waiting for the
gentleman in question. John's wife had been Lily's nurse, and he himself
taught her to ride and helped her to garden, and had a sort of
partnership with me in taking care of her; so that there was a great
friendship between us all three. He had been listening to our
conversation, and now observed, while he pointed towards the house with
a knowing jerk of his head, "There are those coming, Miss Lily, who need
your advice as much as the poor animal; and I guess it wouldn't be of
much more use."

The last words he said to himself, in an undertone, while Lily went
forward to meet Craven, who now appeared in full costume. He was so hung
about with extra shooting-pouches, belts, powder-flasks, and other
things dangling from him in all directions, that I wondered he could
move at all. Old John shook his head as he looked at him, and muttered,
"Great cry and little wool."

Lily began to explain her father's absence; but Craven did not listen
to what she said, he seemed intent upon making her admire his numerous
contrivances. Lily said he had plenty of tools, and that he would be
very clever if he did work to match, but that in her opinion such
variety was rather puzzling.

"Of course, girls know nothing of field-sports," he answered; "I can't
expect you to understand the merits of these things."

"Oh, no, to be sure," answered Lily, good-humouredly; "I dare say they
are all very clever; only papa sometimes tells _me_ that one wants but
few tools if one knows one's work; but perhaps he only means girls'
work. Very likely you are right about yours."

Old John now came forward very respectfully, but with a particular
twinkle in his eye which I understood. Said he, "As you are encumbered
with so many traps, master, maybe I had best take your gun. You can't
carry every thing useful and not useful."

Craven handed him the gun without any objection, and we set off. From
the moment that I saw him relinquish his gun, his real weapon, for the
sake of all those unnecessary adjuncts, I gave up any lingering hope of
him, and followed in very low spirits. Once in the fields, the prospect
of rejoining my master a little revived me; but even in this I was
disappointed: he had gone over the ope