oy!"--(laughing)--"You must not
expect _him_ to be very keen about my speedy return."

As he speaks, an arrow of animosity toward Algy shoots through my heart.

We are at Tempest--Sir Roger and I. It has been his wish to establish me
there before his departure; and now it is the gray of the evening before
his setting off, and we are strolling through the still park. Vick is
racing, with idiotic ardor, through the tall green bracken, after the
mottled deer, yelping with shrill insanity, and vainly imagining that
she is going to overtake them. The gray rabbits are scuttling across the
grass rides in the pale light: as I see them popping in and out of their
holes, I cannot help thinking of Bobby. Apparently, Sir Roger also is
reminded of him.

"Nancy," he says, looking down at me with a smile of recollected
entertainment, "have you forgiven Bobby yet for leaving you sitting on
the wall? I remember, in the first blaze of your indignation, you vowed
that never should he fire a gun in your preserves!--do you still stick
to it, or have you forgiven him?"

"_That_ I have not!" cry I, heartily. "None of them shall shoot any
thing! Why should they? Every thing shall be kept for you against you
come back!"

He raises his eyebrows a little.

"Rabbits and all?"

"Rabbits and all!" reply I, firmly.

"And what will the farmers say?" asks Sir Roger, smiling.

I have not considered this aspect of the question, so remain silent. We
walk on without speaking for some moments. The deer, in lofty pity for
Vick, have stopped to allow her to get nearer to them. With their fine
noses in the air, and their proud necks compassionately turned toward
her, they are waiting, while she pushes, panting and shrieking, through
the stout fern-stems; then, leap cruelly away in airy bounds.

"If I am not back by Christmas--" says Sir Roger, presently.

"By _Christmas_!" interrupt I, aghast, "one, two, three, four, _five_
months--but you _must_!--you MUST!" clasping both hands on his arm.

"I hope I shall, certainly," replies he; "but one never knows what may
happen! If I am _not_--"

"But you _must_," repeat I urgently, and apparently resolved that he
shall never reach the end of his sentence; "if you are not--I warn
you--you may not like it--I dare say you will not--but--I shall come to
look for you!"

"In a _sailing-vessel_, like the governor-general's wife?" asks he with
a smile.

* * * * *

And now he