The moments were very precious, and would have passed even more quickly than they did, but that the couples were all hungry, and quite as ready for luncheon as love-making. Sir Henry, indeed, absolutely refused to move a step from the shady nook in which he had ensconced himself, and Mrs. Lascelles made her position as hostess an excuse for not accompanying a beardless subaltern in a climb after ferns up a perpendicular bank, feathered to the top with those graceful exotics of the forest. This enterprising youth, not yet dismissed the riding-school, thought it incumbent on him to place his cheerful society at her disposal, whom he irreverently designated "the loudest swell of the lot;" but seemed relieved, nevertheless, by her refusal of his attentions, and subsided with extreme good-will into his cornet-a-piston--an instrument on which he played sundry negro melodies with great enjoyment and no contemptible execution. It had been agreed that, directly luncheon was ready, he should summon the stragglers by performing a popular air called "The Roast-beef of Old England," into which, as he threatened, he threw his whole mind, embroidering it with masterly variations founded on a "call," well-known in barracks as the solemn warning: "You'll lose your beef and pudding, my boys, You'll lose your beef and pud--ding." Goldthred had only wetted one sleeve to the shoulder, and thrust the corresponding foot ankle-deep in mud, while fishing water-lilies for Miss Hallaton, ere these welcome sounds released him from attendance, and he brought her back in triumph--looking to Mrs. Lascelles, as little Jack Horner might, from the corner in which he boasted, "What a good boy am I!" She rewarded him as you reward a retriever, if not too wet, by giving him her shawl to take care of. Uncle Joseph, too, had been so engrossed with the salad, that Miss Ross was at his elbow again almost before he missed her, though, short as had been her absence, I cannot doubt she made the best use of her time. Much may be done, if I remember right, in a few minutes, when paths are steep as well as narrow, when glades are deep and dark even under a midsummer sun, when two people are inclined, if only for pastime, to engage in that game from which a loser so often rises under the impression that he has won. It was the old story--Miss Ross, with all her craft, was playing stakes she could ill afford. In the attachments, as in other relations of life, wise is that aphorism of the canny Scot, "Reach not out your hand farther than you can draw it back again." Ere she rejoined the others, Jin felt she must win at any sacrifice, she could not get her hand back now; she would not if she could. Frank, sitting down to cut open a pigeon pie, felt half-pleased, half-penitent. Like a child being tickled, he was inclined both to laugh and to resist.