is unfulfilled. Mrs. Pullbody's sister's husband's sister's husband is
still, largely speaking, at large."

"I knew he would be," replied the young lady, with her joyous smile,
"that's why I put her on to you--the cat!"

At a loss to understand her meaning, Mr. Lavender, who had bent forward
above the hedge in his eagerness to explain, lost his balance, and,
endeavouring to save the hedge, fell over into some geranium pots.

"Dear Don Pickwixote," cried the young lady, assisting him to rise,
"have you hurt your nose?"

"It is not that," said Mr. Lavender, removing some mould from his hair,
and stifling the attentions of Blink; "but rather my honour, for I have
allowed my duty to my country to be overridden by the common emotion of
pity."

"Hurrah!" cried the young lady. "It'll do you ever so much good."

"Aurora!" cried Mr. Lavender aghast, walking at her side. But the young
lady only uttered her enchanting laugh.

"Come and lie down in the hammock!" she said you're looking like a
ghost. "I'll cover you up with a rug, and smoke a cigarette to keep the
midges off you. Tuck up your legs; that's right!"

"No!" said Mr. Lavender from the recesses of the hammock, feeling his
nose, "let the bidges bide me. I deserve they should devour me alive."

"All right," said the young lady. "But have a nap, anyway!" And sitting
down in a low chair, she opened her book and lit a cigarette.

Mr. Lavender remained silent, watching her with the eyes of an acolyte,
and wondering whether he was in his senses to have alighted on so rare a
fortune. Nor was it long before he fell into a hypnotic doze.

How long Mr. Lavender had been asleep he could not of course tell before
he dreamed that he was caught in a net, the meshes of which were formed
of the cries of newspaper boys announcing atrocities by land and sea. He
awoke looking into the eyes of Aurora, who, to still his struggles, had
taken hold of his ankles.

"My goodness! You are thin!" were the first words he heard. "No wonder
you're lightheaded."

Mr. Lavender, whose returning chivalry struggled with unconscious
delight, murmured with difficulty:

"Let me go, let me go; it is too heavenly!

"Well, have you finished kicking?" asked the young lady.

"Yes," returned Mr. Lavender in a fainting voice----"alas!"

The young lady let go of his ankles, and, aiding him to rise from the
hammock, said: "I know what's the matter with you now--you're starving
yourself. You ought to