, there's nothing for it
but submitting. Robin Hood must prevail," said Hippolyta, as the belt
was handed over to Harold, with a sigh that made him say in excuse, "I
would not have done it, but that Eustace wanted to have it in his
hands, for family reasons."

"Then let him look to it; I mean to get it again next year. And, I
say, Mr. Alison, I have a right to some compensation. All you archers
are coming to lunch at Therford on Thursday, if the sun shines, to be
photographed, you know. Now you must come to breakfast, and bring your
lion's skin and your bow--to be done alone. It is all the consolation I
ask. Make him, Lucy. Bring him."

There was no refusing; and that was the way the photograph came to be
taken. We were reminded by a note after we went home, including in the
invitation Eustace, who, after being a little sulky, had made up his
mind that a long range was easier to shoot at than a short one, and so
that he should have won the prize if he had had the chance; and the
notion of being photographed was, of course, delightful to him.

"In what character shall you take me?" he asked of Miss Horsman, when
we were going out on the lawn, and it dawned on him that Harry was to
be a Hercules.

"Oh! as Adonis, of course," said Hippo.

"Or Eurystheus," whispered her sister.

Eustace did not understand, and looked pleased, saying something about
a truly classical get up; but Harold muttered to me, "Aren't they
making game of him?"

"They will take care not to vex him," I said.

But Harold could not overlook it, and took a dislike to the Horsmans on
the spot, which all Hippolyta's genuine admiration of him could not
overcome. She knew what the work of his eighteen months in England had
been, and revered him with such enthusiasm for what she called his
magnificent manhood and beneficence, as was ready on the least
encouragement to have become something a good deal warmer; but whatever
she did served to make her distasteful to him. First, she hastily
shuffled over Eustace's portrait, because, as she allowed us to hear,
"he would give her no peace till he was disposed of." And then she not
only tormented her passive victim a good deal in trying to arrange him
as Hercules, but she forgot the woman in the artist, and tried to make
him bare his neck and shoulder in a way that made him blush while he
uttered his emphatic "No, no!" and Baby Jack supported him by telling
her she "would only make a prize-fighter