He vaulted the fence, and set off down the road at a vigorous and businesslike trot. But after a hundred yards or so he halted, and looked round him with an air which can only be described as furtive. Before him the road, white and dusty, continued officiously on its way to the village and duty. Along the right-hand side thereof ran a neat rail-fence, skirting the confines of Tinkler's Den. The landscape appeared deserted. All nature drowsed in the hot afternoon sun. Mr Blunt, who was a muscular young Christian, took a running jump of some four feet six, cleared the topmost rail, and landed neatly on the grassy slope which ran down towards the Den. "Now then, Sunny Jim!" remarked a reproving voice above his head, "_pas si beaucoup de cela!_" However sound our nervous systems may be, we are all of us liable to be startled at times. Mr Blunt was undoubtedly startled on the occasion, and being young and only very recently ordained, signified the same in the usual manner. When he looked up into the tree where Nicky was reclining, that virtuous damsel's fingers were in her ears. "Mr Blunt," she remarked, "I am both surprised and shocked." "Veronica Vereker," replied Mr Blunt, turning and shaking his fist as he retreated down the slope towards Tinkler's Den, "next time I get hold of you I will wring your little neck!" Miss Veronica Vereker kissed the tips of her fingers to him. "We will now join," she proclaimed, in a voice surprisingly reminiscent of the throaty tenor which Mr Blunt reserved for his ecclesiastical performances, "in singing Hymn number two hundred and thirty-three; during which those who desire to leave the church are recommended to do so, as it is _my--turn--to--preach--the--sermon_!" But by this time the foe, running rapidly, was out of earshot. Half-an-hour later Stiffy, who was a gregarious animal, went in search of his younger sister, whom he discovered, recently returned from her sylvan skirmish with the curate, laboriously climbing into a hammock in the orchard. "Nicky, will you come and play cricket?" he asked politely. "I suppose that means will I come and bowl to you?" replied Nicky. "No. You can bat if you like." "Well, I won't do either," said Nicky agreeably. "What shall we do, then?" pursued Stiffy, with unimpaired _bonhomie_. "Personally, I am going to remain in this hammock," replied the lady. "I recommend you, dear, to go and put your head in a bucket. _Good_ afternoon! Sorry you can't stop." "I wonder if Cilly would play," mused Stiffy. "Cilly? I don't think! She is gloating over her clothes in her bedroom. If you and I, my lad," continued Veronica reflectively, "were going to be presented at Court next week, I wonder if we should make such unholy shows of ourselves for days beforehand."