have been for some years.
Jim Bloxam, though, is one of my intimates. He is a great friend of
both mine and the 'Rip's,' and we see a good deal of him when he is in
London; and, indeed," she continued, laughing, "for the matter of that,
when he is not; for he has a way of turning up at all places generally
when there is anything going on. Indeed, we have half promised to
lunch at their regimental tent at Ascot. And you, what do you think of
Captain Bloxam?"

"I like him very much indeed," replied Sylla. And she looked her
inquisitor so steadily in the face, that Mrs. Wriothesley came promptly
to the conclusion that no love passages had taken place between the
pair as yet. But it had suddenly shot through the energetic little
woman's mind that her favourite, Jim Bloxam, would make a most suitable
husband for her niece. Jim was an eldest son, and Todborough, from all
accounts, a very respectable property. Yes, it would do very well if
it could be brought about, to say nothing of the satisfaction there
would be in stealing from her old enemy's flock the only lamb that was
worth the taking. All this ran through Mrs. Wriothesley's mind as
quick as lightning; and though she said nothing to Sylla on the
subject, she had pretty well resolved to do her best to marry those two.

When Mrs. Wriothesley took charge of nieces for the season, she
conceived it her clear and bounden duty to provide for them
satisfactorily if possible. If Sylla could not be brought to think of
Lionel Beauchamp, it might be possible for her to take a more
favourable view of Captain Bloxam. True, he was not quite so good a
_parti_ as the other; but it was comforting to think that there was
every probability that it would occasion her old antagonist equal
annoyance. It further struck her that, engrossed in her plans for her
daughter, Lady Mary would probably totally overlook any flirtation of
her son's. There is a species of fascination in countermining
difficult to resist; and, though of course she would have in some
measure to be guided by events, Mrs. Wriothesley had pretty well
determined upon the course she would pursue.

"What are you thinking about?" inquired Sylla, breaking in upon her
aunt's reverie. "They should be pleasant thoughts, judging from the
smile on your lips."

"Thinking, my dear, that if we don't get our bonnets on, the world will
all have gone home to luncheon before we get to the Row, and it is good
for us to get t