"Who introduced me to these people before they came to Fordborough? Who comes down to Brackenhill--the dullest hole, now there's no shooting--because it's Lottie Blake's birthday? Whose name is a sort of household word here--Percival this and Percival that? Percival without any Thorne to it, mind." "I plead guilty. What then?" "What then? Why, I wish you to remark that _this_ is your example, while your precept is--" "Take care what you are about with the Blakes. Yes, old fellow, you'd better leave my example alone, and stick to the precept. My wisdom takes that form, I admit." He spoke with more meaning than Horace perceived. "Well, thanks for your advice," said the young man with a laugh. "Though I can't see any particular harm in my coming down to-day." "No harm. Only remember that there is such a place as Brackenhill." "The governor oughtn't to find fault with me, since you're in the same boat. He never thinks you can do wrong." "Never." "You're a lucky fellow to have only yourself to please." "Very lucky," said Percival dryly. "Will you change places with me?" "Change places? What do you mean?" The other looked fixedly at him, and said in a pointed manner, "I fancy it might easily be managed--with Addie Blake's help." The suggestion was unpleasant. Horace winced, and vented his displeasure in a random attack: "And why Addie, I should like to know? How can you tell it is Addie at all?" "Who, then?" "Why not Lottie?" The words were uttered without a moment's thought, and might have been forgotten as soon as said. But Percival was taken by surprise, and a look of utter incredulity flashed across his face. Horace caught it and was piqued. "Unless you understand her so well that you are sure that no one else has a chance. Of course, if that is the case--" "Not at all," Percival exclaimed. "It's not for me to pretend to understand Lottie: I'm not such a fool as that." "All the same," Horace said to himself, "you think you understand her better than I do, and you don't believe I should have a chance if I tried to cut you out. Well, Mr. Percy, you may be right, but, on the other hand, you _may_ be mistaken." And, as he walked back to the Blakes, Horace hurriedly resolved to teach his cousin that he was not to consider Lottie his exclusive property. He knew the folly of such a proceeding, but who was ever hindered from obeying the dictates of wounded vanity by the certainty that he had much better not?