s them to send to his head messenger at the
office. You'll see some sport."

Lord Henry was silent, and covertly observed the girl at his side.

"Oh, not now!" Leonetta replied, frowning ever so slightly. "Must you go
now?"

"Yes, we must go now," Denis replied, "Sir Joseph wants them to be sent
off to-night. You don't mind, do you, Lord Henry? Perhaps you'd like to
come too?"

Leonetta turned to Lord Henry to see what he would say.

He swung round indolently from the view he had been contemplating, and
faced Malster.

"No thanks, old chap," he said, "I'd rather not, thank you."

"Well, you don't mind Leonetta coming, do you?" Denis persisted, growing
a trifle overanxious and heated.

"Not in the least, of course," the young nobleman replied and turned his
head again in the direction of the landscape.

"Come on, Leo!" Denis repeated, with just a shade of command in his
voice, while Vanessa, Agatha, and Guy looked on spellbound.

"No, I'd rather not, really Denis, thanks!" she said. "We were just on
such an interesting subject. Can't you go after tea?"

"No, I'm afraid not," said Denis, his face flushing slightly with
vexation.

"Well, then, leave me out of it, for once, will you?" Leonetta pleaded.
"You know I should have loved to come. But I've got something I must
finish with Lord Henry."

Denis Malster turned round, hot-eared and savage. "All right," he
muttered. "I only thought you'd like it, that's all." And the four moved
off in the direction of the woods, Denis walking with his head thrown
more than usually back in the style that men commonly adopt when they
are withdrawing from a humiliating interview. It is as if they were
trying, like a drinking hen, to straighten their throats, in order the
better to swallow the insult they have just received.

"I'm afraid that young man will not forgive me," said Lord Henry, when
the party were out of earshot.

"Oh, that's ridiculous," said Leonetta; "as if I'd never seen a bunny
shot in my life before. But let me think, what were we saying? Oh, yes,
I know. You were going to read me."

He laughed.

She looked coyly up at him. "You know, Lord Henry, you really are a
little disconcerting. You are one of those people who make one feel one
ought to have done better at school."

"I devoutly trust I don't," he protested.

She examined his fine intelligent hands, and perceived as so many had
perceived before her, the baffling mixture of deep thoughtfulness