Stillwater winked. "You can depend on that. Hi, Flash!" Flash ran up, the bottles in the lunch-basket he carried rattling loudly. He bowed obsequiously, out of breath, as he neared the camp. "What sport?" "Magnificent, sir! Partridges as thick as rabbits! Their lordships and the young lady h’is a coming, sir." "That’ll do," as Flash stood bowing and scraping. "I can’t stand the crawling ways of these English servants," remarked Stillwater. "Neither can I," said Glen. "Well, Mr. Flash, look where you’re going!" exclaimed Kitty, as Flash ran precipitately against her. "Miss Kitty!"—he bowed exaggeratedly—"ten thousand pardons!" "Give an account of yourself! Where are the folks?" "They’re h’on the lake. We ’ad a fine day’s sport! I’ve never seen ’is lordship in good temper for twelve consecutive hours before. And their h’appetites, bless ’em!"—Flash whirled the basket in the air—"the h’eatables ’ave vanished and they’ve drained the bottles!" "That’s good!" said Kitty, relieving him of the basket. Flash sank down on a rustic bench with a sigh of fatigue. "So the lordships are enjoying themselves?" Kitty seated herself beside him and looked meditatively at her shoes. "A lucky day for them when they fell in with the Stillwaters! We are celebrated for being magnificent entertainers." "Are you?" said Flash, with a stare that comprehended every detail of her trim personality. Kitty was a source of much entertainment to him, besides being an unending study and a continuous novelty. Kitty, conscious of the stare, rose with a toss of her chestnut head. "I’m going down to the lake to watch for the folks." "Stay ’ere, Miss Kitty!" pleaded Flash. "Don’t compel me to mount this ’ill again!" "There’s really no necessity that you should accompany me, Mr. Flash." She deposited the basket within, and strolled down through the trees. Flash surveyed her from where he was sitting. Her smooth, shining hair was mounted by a modish black bow. She wore a little dainty, ruffled apron. "Very neat!" he murmured, then rose with an effort and caught up with her. "It’s a big thing, as you say in h’America, to be ’unting and ’unting for miles and miles, and still be ’unting on your own ’unting grounds." "I should say so! Mr. Stillwater bought up all that land you’re talking about, years ago. It’s worth ten times more now than what he paid for it. It’s for that model farm." "H’if all you’ve been telling me h’is true, I’m glad. I’m an h’expert on farming. I ’ave never seen h’anything like you describe, h’even in Devonshire." "The farm’s only a fad of Mr. Stillwater’s. You should see our home in Indiana!" "I say, Kitty," he looked confidentially in her face, "’ow much is ’e estimated at? Say two ’undred thousand pounds?" Kitty laughed contemptuously. "Three? Five?"