'But I'm not a sensible girl, and I wouldn't be a sensible girl for all the world. Sensible girls went out long ago with crinoline and that sort of thing. Probably there was a time when, if a man wanted to marry the daughter, he began by making love to the father. But that sort of thing is quite out of date.' She touched the bell as she spoke. 'Oh, Dobson, I'll have my horse round in half an hour. The chestnut with the white feet, tell the groom.' 'You are going to hunt?' said Gustie. 'Yes; but I'll go to the meet without a cavalier. My chestnut is in fine form, I'm told, and I do long to have the dust blown out of my hair.' 'I cannot go with you, my pretty cousin.' 'Nobody axed you, sir,' she said, or rather sung. Now, it happened that Antony's letter had come among others that very morning, and she had left it in her boudoir to read it a second time, but had forgotten it. It is not pleasant to write about shabby actions or disagreeable people, but at times there is no help for it. Gustie, going to the room some time after in search of his cousin, found she had left. He lingered a little here, and his eyes fell upon the letter. He was quite unfamiliar with Antony's calligraphy--indeed, the two did not correspond, for they had nothing in common. 'Hallo!' he thought, 'a letter to Agg, and from a gentleman too! Perhaps I have a rival.' He was fingering it now. 'Would it be a breach in my dignity were I to open it, I wonder?' Footsteps were approaching, so he hurriedly dropped it into his pocket and was studying a picture when the maid entered. She would have retreated at once, but he called her. ‘’Pon my word,' he said, catching her hand, 'a charming little puss. Should like to'---- 'Better not, sir.' 'Let me see, I think I have a loose half-crown somewhere.' 'Do you let them run loose, sir?' 'I was just looking for my cousin, but find she has gone. There, you need not mention our little _tête-à-tête_ to your mistress.' And off he went to his own room, and some time after strolled into the library, where he found Mr Blake, senior, studying _Debrett_. They talked somewhat indifferently for a time. Then Mr Blake said, 'You look preoccupied, Gustus. Have you anything particular to say?' 'Well, I have; but it is sometimes difficult to reconcile apparent duty to one with friendship for another.' 'Explain.' 'Well, the letter I found in the hall. Cousin Aggie must have dropped it when going out. I suppose at the time my thoughts had gone a wool-gathering, for I read part of it, enough to cause me to come to the conclusion that you should see it.' He placed the letter on the table and retired, and there it lay until Mr Blake threw himself into his easy leather-backed chair to smoke. At first he was rather amused, then a shade of disappointment stole over his face, but no anger. 'Stupid boy!' he said. 'When I told him he might have his fling, I didn't mean he was to make a fool of himself.'