his _beau
ideal_ of a feed, but that was not in the race with the Gould banquet.
And the champagne; on the few occasions when he had had a chance of
tasting that wine, he had got all he could and wanted more. But now his
only care was not to take too much of it, lest it should get into his
head.

"Are you studying your part?" asked his neighbour, for he had been
silent for some time.

"No," he replied; "I was thinking that if your brother lives like this
every day, he must find the fare rather unpalatable when he goes back to
Weston."

"I believe he does," said Miss Clarissa laughing. "At least he writes
home grumbling letters enough, and we have to send him hampers of good
things--Perigord pies and that. Don't stop longer than you like," she
added as the ladies rose. "Papa will go on talking about stupid things
all night."

And shortly afterwards young Gould, who had taken his sister's place
when she went, proposed that they should go to the billiard-room and
knock the balls about. So they went and made a four-handed game with
two of the girls. And then Miss Clarissa read over the scenes in which
Crawley had to take part with her, and made him repeat what he had
learned, with appropriate action. And he got partially over his
shyness, and spent rather a pleasant evening, thanks, a little bit, I
fancy, to a little vanity. His friend came to have a chat with him
after they had gone up to their rooms, and when he left Crawley could
not help thinking what a pity it was that his sister Clarissa had not
been the boy and he the girl. She was such a much better sort of fellow
for a friend; had more go, and was heartier. Before he finally turned
in he read the part of Ensign Bellefleur over again, for he felt too
much excited by the novelty of everything to sleep, if he went to bed.
At last, however, reading the same words over repeatedly quieted his
nerves, and he slept soundly till morning.

"You are still inclined to have a try for the snipe?" asked Gould at
breakfast. "It is still thawing, and the ground will be very sloshy; I
hope you have got thick boots."

"Yes, and if I hadn't I do not mind a little wet," replied Crawley.
"But I can't find my gun anywhere."

"Oh, that is all right in the gun-room."

This was another new idea to Crawley, who previously thought that it was
only ships in Her Majesty's navy, and not houses, that had gun-rooms.
They visited it presently, and Crawley found his property t