y a jerk from
behind; where Blink, moved by this sudden elopement of her master, had
seized him by the nightshirt tails, and was staying his descent.

"Is anything up?" said the young lady.

"I have lost my balance," thickly answered Mr. Lavender, whose blood was
running to his head, which was now lower than his feet. "Fortunately, my
dog seems to be holding me from behind. But if someone could assist her
it would be an advantage, for I fear that I am slipping."

"Hold on!" cried the young lady. And breaking through the low privet
hedge which separated the domains, she vanished beneath him with a low
gurgling sound.

Mr. Lavender, who dared not speak again for fear that Blink, hearing his
voice, might let go to answer, remained suspended, torn with anxiety
about his costume. "If she comes in," he thought, "I shall die from
shame. And if she doesn't, I shall die from a broken neck. What a
dreadful alternative!" And he firmly grasped the most substantial
lilac-boughs within, his reach, listening with the ears of a hare for any
sound within the room, in which he no longer was to any appreciable
extent. Then the thought of what a public man should feel in his position
came to his rescue. "We die but once," he mused; "rather than shock that
charming lady let me seek oblivion." And the words of his obituary
notice at once began to dance before his eyes. "This great public
servant honoured his country no less in his death than in his life."
Then striking out vigorously with his feet he launched his body forward.
The words "My goodness!" resounded above him, as all restraining
influence was suddenly relaxed; Mr. Lavender slid into the lilac-bush,
turned heels over head, and fell bump on the ground. He lay there at
full, length, conscious of everything, and especially of the faces of
Blink and the young lady looking down on him from the window.

"Are you hurt?" she called.

"No," said Mr. Lavender, "that is--er--yes," he added, ever scrupulously
exact.

"I'm coming down," said the young lady.

"Don't move!"

With a great effort Mr. Lavender arranged his costume, and closed his
eyes. "How many lie like this, staring at the blue heavens!" he thought.

"Where has it got you?" said a voice; and he saw the young lady bending
over him.

"'In the dorsal region, I think," said Mr. Lavender. "But I suffer more
from the thought that I--that you--"

"That's all right," said the young lady; "I'm a V.A.D. It WAS a bump!
Let's