"Yes; how the deuce did you know, I wonder?" queried my uncle. "But look sharp with those things: you take as long collecting your traps as a fox does to leave a big wood." "Alas, poor me!" I thought. "It is Mr. Bell's horse;" and I went out to see cousin Grace with anything but a feeling of "pleasures to come." The sight of her dear face and the warmth of her greeting, however, soon made me forget all about the white stocking, and the journey home was passed in questions asked and answers given. She told me that on the morrow the remainder of the party were expected down, among them old Lady Ventnor and her son Lord Ventnor, a young gentleman who gave himself considerable airs on the strength of his title, and for whom I had an intense dislike, owing perhaps in a great measure to an idea that he had designs on Grace's affections, which, although I had never hinted a word of love to her, caused me more uneasiness than I liked to say. As a set-off against this (to me) obnoxious element, my old school-fellow and almost brother, Jack Fisher, was already in the house, together with his sister, who was A1 whether across country or in a ball-room, and the life and soul of any house she might be staying in. Old "young ladies" no doubt used to shake their heads and say, in their jealousy, that she was "so fast;" but a better girl, in every sense of the word, than Lettie Fisher did not exist, despite her boisterous spirits and reckless daring. Naturally when we arrived at The Grange Jack and I had lots to talk over--old days, old sayings, and old friends; and in the smoking-room, when Uncle John, seated in his favourite armchair, with a long churchwarden, fast colouring from constant usage, in his hand, endeavoured to inflict on us a detailed description of the big upstanding bay, we simply refused to listen to him, and I told him I would prefer to form my judgment from actual experience. Next day the rest of the guests arrived, and I had the pleasure of seeing young Ventnor doing his little best to ingratiate himself with my cousin. I am afraid that my manner showed that something was wrong, for after dinner in the drawing-room Grace, having for a moment freed herself from his lordship's attentions, came across to where I was sitting moodily contemplating the piano, and said: "What is the matter, Ned? You look as cross as two sticks. Everyone will think you have committed a murder if you go on staring into vacancy. Ventnor says you would make a beautiful Hamlet." "Very likely," I retorted. "I was just then thinking with the Prince of Denmark that some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. Tell Ventnor I am highly flattered by his opinion of me as a representative of the Dane." Grace only raised her eyebrows and left me to my thoughts, which were interrupted by the arrival of the butler, who informed Uncle John that the stud-groom was waiting for orders about the morrow.