me with a strange,
earnest expression, and all at once I felt that nothing should induce
me to trust myself with Sir Guy. I couldn't help blushing though as I
declined, more particularly when my would-be charioteer swore he
considered it "an engagement, hey?--only put off to another time--get
the coach new painted--begad, Miss Coventry's favourite colour!" And
the old monster grinned in my face till I could have boxed his ears.

The author by this time was fast asleep, with a handkerchief over his
face, Miss Minnows searching in vain for a fabulous pair of clogs, as
she imagined the dew must be falling--it was about six p.m., and hot
June weather. Sir Guy was off to the hampers in search of "brandy and
soda," and the rest of the party lounging about in twos and threes,
when Captain Lovell proposed we should stroll down to the river and
have a row in the cool of the evening. Mary Molasses voted it
"charming;" Lady Scapegrace was willing to go anywhere away from Sir
Guy; John, of course, all alive for a lark; and though Mrs. Molasses
preferred remaining on dry land, she had no objection to trusting her
girls with us. So we mustered a strong party for embarkation on Father
Thames. Our two cavaliers ran forward to get the boat ready, Captain
Lovell bounding over the fences and stiles almost as actively as
Brilliant could have done; and John, who is no mean proficient at such
exercises, following him; whilst we ladies paced along soberly in the
rear.

"Can you row, Miss Coventry?" asked Lady Scapegrace, who seemed to
have taken rather a fancy to me, probably out of contradiction to the
other women. "I can. I rowed four miles once on the Lake of Geneva,"
she added in her deep, melancholy voice, "and we were caught in one of
those squalls and nearly lost. If it hadn't been for poor Alphonse,
not one of us could have escaped. I wonder if drowning's a painful
death, Miss Coventry; the water always looks so inviting."

"Goodness, Lady Scapegrace!" exclaimed I; "don't take this opportunity
of finding out. None of us can swim but John; and if he saves anybody,
he's solemnly engaged to save _me_."

"I quite agree with you, Lady Scapegrace," said the romantic Miss
Molasses. "It looks so peaceful, and gives one such an idea of repose.
I for one have not the slightest fear of death, or indeed of any mere
bodily changes----Gracious goodness! the bull! the bull!"

What a rout it was! The courageous young lady who thus gave us the
f