"Gently, young woman," cried Sydie. "He is Tutor and Fellow of King's, and a great gun besides; he's some twenty-five years older than you. His name on the rolls is Gerald, I believe, and he dwells in the shadow of Mater, beyond the reach of my cornet; for which fact, not being musically inclined, he is barbarian enough to return thanks daily in chapel." "I am sorry he is come. It was stupid of you to bring him." "Wherefore, _ma cousine_? Are you afraid of him? You needn't be. Young ladies are too insignificant atoms of creation for him to criticise. He'll no more expect sense from you than from Snowdrop and her pups." "Afraid!" repeated Fay, with extreme indignation. "I should like to see any man of whom I should feel afraid! If he doesn't like fun and nonsense, I pity him; but if he despise me ever so much for it, I shall enjoy myself before him, and in spite of him. I was sorry you brought him, because he will take you away when I want you all to myself; and he looks so haughty, that----" "You _are_ afraid of him, Fay, and won't own it." "I am _not_," reiterated Fay, impetuously; "and I will smoke a cigar with him after dinner, to show you I am not one bit." "I bet you six pair of gloves you do no such thing, young lady." "Done. Do keep the one with a black nose, Sydie; and yet that little liver-colored darling is too pretty to be killed. Suppose we save them all? Snowdrop will be so pleased." Whereon Fay kissed all the little snub noses with the deepest affection, and was caught in the act by Keane and the General. "There's that child with her arms full of dogs," said the General, beaming with satisfaction at sight of his niece. "She's a little, spoilt, wilful thing. She's an old bachelor's pet, and you must make allowances. I call her the fairy of the Beeches, God bless her! She nursed me last winter, when I was at death's door from these cursed cold winds, sir, better than Miss Nightingale could have done. What a devilish climate it _is_; never two days alike. I don't wonder Englishwomen are such icicles, poor things; they're frostbitten from their cradle upwards." "India warms them up, General, doesn't it?" The General shook with laughter. "To be sure, to be sure; if prudery's the fashion, they'll wear it, sir, as they would patches or hair-powder; but they're always uncommonly glad to leave it off and lock it out of sight when they can. What do you think of the kennels? I say, Sydie, confound you, why did you bring down any traps with you? Haven't room for 'em, not for one. Couldn't cram a tilbury into the coach-house." "A trap, governor?" said Sydie, straightening his back after examination of the pups; "can't keep even a wall-eyed cab-horse; wish I could." "Where's your drag, then?" demanded the General.