Colonel Sladen became almost black in the face; but before he could recover his breath, Captain Waring broke into the group-- “Hullo, Mark, old chap, you are looking rather cheap--any bones broken?” “I’m not much the worse. We had a wonderful escape; the brambles saved us, and the root of a big tree. My wrist----” becoming rather white. “Your wrist!” repeated a doctor. “Let us have a look at it. Ah! and I see you have cut your head. Oh, ho! the wrist is fractured; a simple fracture--it won’t be much. I’ll set it now;” which he proceeded to do on the spot--an operation superintended by bystanders with deepest interest. Colonel Sladen watched with jealous scrutiny to see if the patient would flinch; but no, alas! he was doomed to disappointment. To tell the truth, as far as he was concerned, he would not have minded if the insolent young hound had broken his neck. Mrs. Brande, who was always well to the front in cases of accidents or sickness, had long abandoned her dandy, suggested one person’s flask, another person’s smelling-bottle, and was full of most anxious solicitude. “I’ll be all right,” said Jervis, looking round the eager circle. “Well, before I’m twice married, as old nurses say, Miss Paske”--suddenly catching sight of her bright, questioning, little marmoset eyes--“it would have been only friendly of you to have prepared us for _this_!” “It’s all very fine for you to laugh it off,” protested Mrs. Brande. “You just get into my dandy this instant. I can walk; indeed, it will do me good; and you shall come home with me straight, and I’ll nurse you.” But Jervis declared that no nursing was required, and would not hear of this arrangement. When his wrist had been set, and tied up with splints of wood and various handkerchiefs, he got on his pony and jogged away as briskly as the best. The recent scene had not occupied more than twenty-five minutes, and soon every one was _en route_, every one but Sir Gloster, who had mysteriously vanished from the crowd, and had been one of the earliest to retreat and hurry home. Wise Mrs. Langrishe, who had not gone by the short cut, had seen him trot stolidly past her, alone, looking extraordinarily solemn and morose, and drew her own conclusions. What a goose the girl had been! He might yet be caught at the rebound--stranger things had happened. Oh, if Lalla would only behave herself! Two days after the great picnic, Mrs. Brande came into her drawing-room, where Mark Jervis, with his arm in a sling, was having tea with her niece and Mrs. Sladen. She looked quite flushed and upset as she said-- “What _do_ you think, Honor? Here is Sir Gloster’s visiting card--P.P.C., sent by a servant. I hear he has gone away for good. Don’t you think he might have had the manners to call, after all the good dinners he has had here?” and she seemed on the verge of tears. “But he did call, very often, aunt,” replied Honor, without raising her eyes from Ben.