We shall not, however, follow our party throughout the day. Be it briefly recorded, however, that Marsland surrendered at discretion to Sophie's blue eyes and golden hair, and fresh, bewitching ways, and constituted himself her guide, philosopher and friend, and fetch-and-carry generally, through the uncertain and mazy evolutions of the ice--and how Eustace poured out the vials of his exuberant chaff upon them and upon everybody, and notably upon a brace of shaven and spectacled young clerics, who rather fancied themselves on skates, and, with singular unanimity of intent, were bent on imbuing Sophie with the same idea, but that our friend Marsland sailed in and cut out the prize from under their guns, apparently with the full approval of the prize itself. "Time to knock off and give King Mob his innings," cried Roland, whirling up to the bank and casting himself thereon. "Oh, hang it, old man! Isn't it rather soon?" objected Marsland, who, hand-in-hand with a certain blue-eyed young lady, glided by just in time to catch the suggestion. "Rather soon! I should think it was!" echoed Sophie. "I think Mr Dorrien's right," said Clara Neville, who had just been taking a turn or two round the ice with the first speaker. "It's disagreeable being here when the place is full of rough people. Besides, it's getting late." Ill-natured friends were wont to whisper that the fair Clara was getting somewhat _passee_ and soured, and that the qualifications of the future aspirant to Ardleigh Court would not be so narrowly scrutinised now as of yore. But the answer to this libel was that she had refused two very good offers and one indifferent one. Her sister, Maud, was married, and Clara was left alone in the ancestral halls. And now she had made up her mind to smile favourably on Frank Marsland, who had on a former occasion or two begun to show her attention, when again that detestable Rectory furnished a thorn for her side. That chit of a girl had upset the plan, even as her sister had done years before. Poor Clara had not enjoyed her day. "Er--Dorrien--if you don't mind, I think we--er--I--will have half an hour more of it," stammered Marsland. "Miss Sophie says she'd rather walk back--er--and I'll see her safe home." "All right, Marsland," replied his host. "Olive dear, do you mind driving back without me? You can take Margaret in the waggonette." He had taken off his skates, and was standing with one foot on the step of the vehicle, wherein sat his wife, wrapped in furs, and looking very sweet in the crisp, frosty air. "Your father and I are going to walk. Oh, and by the way, he says they all can go straight back with us to dinner, so you'd better go on ahead and arrange accordingly." "Very well, dear. But I quite envy you your lovely walk." "Not a few quite envy me my lovely something else," he replied meaningly.