azed piercingly at her for several instants without moving
a muscle of his face; suddenly its fixed and stern expression--you could
not say softened, but--broke up all at once like a sheet of ice
shivering.

"Let there be peace," he said, sententiously. "We forgive all the errors
of your long vacation in consideration of the good it has evidently done
you. You are looking brilliantly!"

There was an unusual softness, almost a tremor, in his deep voice as he
spoke the last words, and a look in his bold eyes that many trained
coquettes would have shrunk from--a look that I should be sorry and
angry to see turned on any woman in whom I felt an interest--a look such
as Selim Pasha might wear as the Arnauts defile into his harem-court,
bringing the fair Georgians home.

Flora Bellasys only smiled in saucy triumph.

"You say you never pay compliments," she answered, "and I always _try_
to believe you. We will suppose this one is only the truth extorted. My
glove--thank you." The same smile was on her lip as she turned her head
once in her haughty progress to the door.

As Guy sat down again, and filled a huge glass with claret, I heard him
mutter between his teeth, "_Royale, quand meme_!"

"Close up, gentlemen, close up!" broke in the cheery voice of our rare
old host. "Livingstone, if you begin back-handing already, you'll never
be able to hold that great raking chestnut I saw your groom leading this
evening. The man looked as if he thought he would be eaten before he got
in."

"Whatever you do, drink fair," Guy answered, laughing; "so saith the
immortal Gamp. The squire's beginning to tremble for his '22 wine."

"I don't wonder," said Godfrey Parndon, the M.F.H. "I've always observed
that, after flirting disgracefully at dinner, you drink harder
afterward. It's to drown remorse, I suppose. So you ride that new horse
of yours to-morrow? My poor hounds!"

"Don't be alarmed," cried Guy; "he never kicks hounds, and I won't let
him go over them; it's only human strangers the amiable animal can't
endure: that's why I call him the Axeine. He is worth more than the L300
I gave for him."

"Well, he nearly spoiled two grooms for Hounscott," Parndon said. "The
stablemen at Revesby had a great beer the day they got rid of him."

"He wouldn't suit every one," remarked Livingstone--"not you, for
instance, Godfrey, who always ride with a loose rein. I was obliged to
give him his gallops myself at first; he's a devil to pull,