Lucian received this badinage in good part--it was merely Sprats’s way of showing her contempt for finicking habit. He followed her from the vicarage to the Castle--she walking with her nose in the air, and from time to time commiserating him because of the newness of his boots; he secretly anxious to bask in the sunlight of Haidee’s smiles. And at last they arrived, and there, sprawling on the lawn near the basket-chair in which Haidee’s lissome figure reposed, was the young gentleman who rejoiced in the name of Richard Feversham. He appeared to be very much at home with his young hostess; the sound of their mingled laughter fell on the ears of the newcomers as they approached. Lucian heard it, and shivered with a curious, undefinable sense of evil; Sprats heard it too, and knew that a moral thunderstorm was brewing. The afternoon was by no means a success, even in its earlier stages. Mrs. Brinklow had departed to a friend’s house some miles away; the earl might be asleep or dead for all that was seen of him. Sprats and Haidee cherished a secret dislike of each other; Lucian was proud, gloomy, and taciturn; only the Feversham boy appeared to have much zest of life left in him. He was a somewhat thick-headed youngster, full of good nature and high spirits; he evidently did not care a straw for public or private opinion, and he made boyish love to Haidee with all the shamelessness of depraved youth. Haidee saw that Lucian was jealous, and encouraged Dickie’s attentions--long before tea was brought out to them the materials for a vast explosion were ready and waiting. After tea--and many plates of strawberries and cream--had been consumed, the thick-headed youth became childishly gay. The tea seemed to have mounted to his head--he effervesced. He had much steam to let off: he suggested that they should follow the example of the villagers at the bun-struggles and play kiss-in-the-ring, and he chased Haidee all round the lawn and over the flower-beds in order to illustrate the way of the rustic man with the rustic maid. The chase terminated behind a hedge of laurel, from whence presently proceeded much giggling, screaming, and confused laughter. The festive youngster emerged panting and triumphant; his rather homely face wore a broad grin. Haidee followed with highly becoming blushes, settling her tumbled hair and crushed hat. She remarked with a pout that Dickie was a rough boy; Dickie replied that you don’t play country games as if you were made of egg-shell china.