Meanwhile the unfortunate girl, and Denis, lingered behind, and Denis made over the woodcock, with a short sketch of its history, and roars of laughter. “And how do you like _him_?” enquired Betty, looking after the bath-chair. “Is he the stuck-up beast you expected?” “No, I cannot say that he is stuck-up, but he is rather superfine for Bridgetstown; he wears silk socks of an evening, flies to open the door for the mater, and calls the governor ‘Sir.’” “You must be quite startled at such queer ways,” returned the girl, with an irony that was completely lost on her listener. “Anything else?” she asked blandly. “He is shocked at Cuckoo, and no wonder, and he has been trying to lecture _me_.” “And no wonder,” she echoed expressively. “Now, Betty!” “Pray, what was the text of his lecture?” “Hanging about at home, and you know _who_ is to blame for that,” and he tried to look sentimental, as he peered into her face. “Denis, don’t be ridiculous! you are like a dying duck in a thunderstorm. I know very well who is to blame for your idleness; no less a person than yourself: you loaf about the country with a gun or a rod, when you ought to be earning your living, or learning to earn your living, like another young man. I wonder you are not ashamed of yourself, I know _I_ am ashamed for you.” “I’ve a good mind to enlist!” he exclaimed in a tone of gloomy resolution. “Well, anything is better than idleness,” returned Betty cheerfully. “I would far rather see you a steady private soldier, than a good-for-nothing private gentleman.” “There’s no one, not even my mother, who would dare to speak to me as you do, Betty Redmond.” “Your mother, poor soul! I suppose not, but as to other people, it’s not that they don’t dare--they don’t _care_! Do you imagine that anyone is afraid of such an insignificant helpless idler as Denis Malone?” “Betty, you _have_ a tongue, and no one suspects it but me!” cried Denis, angrily. “Well, I am very glad that it is sharp enough to penetrate your rhinoceros skin. I hope you will take what it says to heart. Now, I must fly. They are nearly out of sight.” And with a gesture of farewell, she ran after the bath-chair. Mrs. Redmond talked incessantly as she was trundled along. She discoursed of the dreariness of the country, of her military friends, of her limited means, and of Belle, her beautiful Belle! Utterly lost in this wilderness--a veritable pearl among swine--Belle, the ornament of countless balls, the admired of all, the cynosure of even royal eyes, and yet, in spite of her dull life at Noone, she was so gay, so contented, the very light of the house!