orth, who had taken a seat
just behind her chair.

Nora threw him a challenging glance that made that young man's heart
skip a beat or two as all the excitements of the match had not.

"Are you a judge?" said the girl, tipping her saucy chin at him.

"Am I? With four sisters and dozens of cousins to practise on, I fancy I
might claim to be a regular bench show expert."

"Then," cried Nora with sudden animation, "you are the very man I want."

"Thank you so much," replied Mr. Duckworth fervently.

"I mean, perhaps you can advise me. Now as you look at me--" The young
man's eyes burned into hers so that with all her audacity Nora felt the
colour rising in her face. "Which would you suggest as the most suitable
style for me, the psyche knot or the neck roll?"

"I beg your pardon? I rather--"

"Or would you say the French twist?"

"Ah, the French twist--"

"Or simply marcelled and pomped?"

"I am afraid--"

"Or perhaps the pancake or the coronet?"

"Well," said the young man, desperately plunging, "the coronet I should
say would certainly not be inappropriate. It goes with princesses,
duchesses and that sort of thing. Don't you think so, Mrs.
Waring-Gaunt?" said Duckworth, hoping to be extricated. That lady,
however, gave him no assistance but continued to smile affectionately at
the girl beside her. "What style is this that you have now adopted, may
I ask?" inquired Mr. Duckworth cautiously.

"Oh, that's a combination of several. It's a creation of Kathleen's
which as yet has received no name."

"Then it should be named at once," said Duckworth with great emphasis.
"May I suggest the Thunderbolt? You see, of course--so stunning."

"They are coming on," cried Nora, turning her shoulder in disdain upon
the young man. "Look, there's your brother, Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. I think
he is perfectly splendid."

"Which is he?" said Mr. Duckworth, acutely interested.

"That tall, fine-looking man on the brown pony."

"Oh, yes, I see. Met him this morning. By Jove, he is some looker too,"
replied Mr. Duckworth with reluctant enthusiasm.

"And there is the High River Captain," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, "on the
grey."

"Oh, yes, Monteith, he played for All Canada last year, didn't he?" said
Nora with immense enthusiasm. "He is perfectly splendid."

"I hear the High River club has really sent only its second team, or at
least two of them," said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. "Certainly Tremaine is not
with them."

"I hope they