wered softly:

"'Deed, sir, I'm very contemptibly young, sir, immaturely hoydenish,
sir, green, callow, unripe and altogether of no account to a tried man
o' the world sir, of age and judgment ripe--aye, a little over-ripe,
perchance. And yet, O!" my lady sighed ecstatic, "I dare swear that
one day you shall not find in all the South country such a
furiously-angry, ferociously-passionate, rampantly-raging old gentleman
as Major John d'Arcy, sir!"

"And there's your aunt calling us, I think," said he, gently. Lady
Betty bit her lip and frowned at her dainty shoe. "Pray let her wail,
sir, 'tis her one delight when there chance to be a sufficiency of
gentlemen to attend her, so suffer the poor soul to wail awhile,
sir--nay, she's here!"

As the Major rose the door opened and Lady Belinda entered "twittering"
upon the arms of Viscount Merivale and Sir Benjamin Tripp.

"Olack-a-day, dear Bet!" she gasped, "my own love-bird, 'tis here you
are and the dear Major too! We've sought thee everywhere, child, the
tea languishes--high an low we've sought thee, puss. 'Tis a monstrous
fine house but vast--so many stairs--such work--upstairs and downstairs
I've climbed and clambered, child----"

"Od so, 'tis true enough!" said Sir Benjamin clapping laced
handkerchief to heated brow, "haven't done so much, hem! I say so much
climbing for years, I vow!"

Here the Viscount, serene as ever, slowly closed one eye.

"Come Betty sweet, tea grows impatient and clamours for thee and I for
tea, and the gentlemen all do passion for thee."

"By the way, Tom," said the Major as they followed the company, "I
don't see Mr. Dalroyd here."

"No more he is, nunky!" answered the Viscount, "but then, Lord, sir,
Dalroyd is something of an unknown quantity, at all times."

CHAPTER XI

IN WHICH LADY BELINDA TALKS

"And pray mam," enquired the Major as they strolled over velvety lawn,
"are you and my lady Betty settled in the country for good?"

The Lady Belinda stopped suddenly and raised clasped hands to heaven.

"Hark to the monster!" she ejaculated, "O Lud, Major, how can you?
Stop in the country--I? O heaven--a wilderness of cabbages and
caterpillars--of champing cows and snorting bulls! Sir, sir, at the
bare possibility I vow I could positively swoon away----"

"Don't, mam!" cried the Major hastily. "No, no mam, pray don't," he
pleaded.

"I detest the country sir, I----"

"Quite so, quite so," said the Major soothingl