Guy shut the window down again, and
we took our departure, much edified, as may easily be imagined, by the
lessons of meekness and humility which we had received in so becoming
a manner. From church we invariably proceeded to the kennel, where a
stout, healthy-looking keeper paraded the Baronet's pointers and
setters for the inspection of the ladies. Here Sir Guy took entire
possession of me once more.

"Don't be alarmed, my dear," said he, as a great bull-headed,
black-and-white brute, surnamed Don, came blundering up and tried to
put his muddy paws on my dress. Sir Guy's affectation of the
"paternal," and his odious way of calling one "my dear," provoked me
intensely; and I gave Don such a crack over his double nose with my
parasol as broke the ivory handle of that instrument, and completely
quelled all further demonstrations of affection from the uninteresting
brute. Sir Guy was charmed.

"Hit him hard," said he; "he's got no friends. What a vixen it is! How
she punished my near leader the other day! I _love_ that girl!"

The latter sentence, be it observed, was spoken _sotto voce_, and
required, as indeed it received, no reply.

"What interesting creatures!" exclaimed Miss Molasses, indicating an
old pointer lady, who went swinging by with all the appearance of
having lately brought up a large and thirsty family. "Do tell me, can
that dog really _catch_ a hare?"

The keeper's face was a study; he was apparently a humorous
individual. But Miss Molasses addressed her remarks to Frank Lovell;
and Frank, as in duty bound, replied. That girl was evidently making
up to him, and, thinking he was fond of field-sports, pretended to
take an interest in everything connected with those pursuits for his
sake.

"Come and see the tame pheasants, Miss Coventry," said Sir Guy. I knew
what this meant: I knew it would entail a _tete-a-tete_ walk with my
aversion, and I cast an imploring look at Frank, as much as to say,
"_Do_ save me." He caught my meaning in an instant, and skilfully
interposed. Of course, as he accompanied us, so did Miss Molasses; but
Frank and I lingered a little behind the rest of the party, made a
wrong turn in the shrubbery, and found ourselves, I never knew exactly
how, taking a long walk all alone in the waning twilight. I don't know
what Aunt Deborah would have said to such proceedings, and I am quite
sure Lady Horsingham would have been unspeakably shocked; but these
Sunday walks were the custom of