been duly sent to the Grange--for the matter of that, round the
country generally. There will be lunch all over the camp; but mind, I
expect you to patronize our mess in particular. Mile races, half-mile
races, quarter-mile races, sack races, barrow races,--in short,
humanity contending on its feet in every possible shape."

"The very thing," said Jim, "after a ball; don't you think so, Mrs.
Sartoris? Fresh air, amusement, gentle exercise, and a little
stimulant close at hand if we feel low."

"Ah, Mrs. Sartoris," replied Conyers, "and I really am a little low
about to-morrow. The best race of the day is a quarter-mile race for
the 'All Army Cup.' There is a horribly conceited young Engineer of
the name of Montague who already regards it as his own property; and
saddest of all remains the fact that, notwithstanding his crowing, he
can run above a bit; we have nobody in the camp with a chance of
defeating him."

"Why don't you make Captain Bloxam, here, run?" said Mrs. Sartoris.
"Why, you know," she said, turning to Jim, "that you beat all the men
at the Orleans Club a fortnight ago across the cricket-ground in that
impromptu handicap."

"Of course," replied Conyers; "I never thought of that. I remember now
you won the quarter mile at Aldershot last year. Capital! this race is
open to the whole army, and the entries don't close till to-morrow.
I'll stick your name down; and if ever you wish to do me a turn, mind
you cut Montague's comb for him to-morrow."

"Well, I can only say," replied Jim, "I am good to have a shy, and will
do my best."

Enthroned amongst the chaperons, and keeping a watchful eye upon her
flock, Lady Mary so far views their proceedings with much complacency.
After two successive dances with Blanche, Lionel Beauchamp has
disappeared with that young lady, and though her daughter is no longer
under her eye, still Lady Mary feels that events are marching in the
right direction. However, it seemed as if Miss Bloxam had retired into
the purlieus of the ball-room for the evening, and though, under the
circumstances of her disappearance, Lady Mary felt no whit disturbed,
about it, yet she thought she should like a cup of tea, and asked Mr.
Sartoris to be her escort. But upon arrival at the tea-room, her
equanimity was destined to be somewhat upset, for the first sight that
met her eyes was Lionel Beauchamp and Sylla Chipchase seated in one of
the corners, and apparently engaged in a tolerably