“Here,” said he, “is the frog who would a-wooing go;” and he added, as he uncovered the treasure, “he is come to pay his addresses to you, Alice,” making a feint of putting him in her lap. “That he is not,” she cried, jumping up and dodging Geoffrey round a tree. Round and round they went like a pair of squirrels, Mary and Reginald gravely looking on. “Did you ever see such a pair of children?” exclaimed Mary. “That’s the way Alice used to go on before she was married. She had such wild spirits; she was the life of us all at Rougemont. I would never have known her to be the same person, she is so changed,” she observed, with a reproachful glance at Reginald. “I see you blame me for it all, Miss Ferrars; but Alice has only herself to thank, no one else. You would say that I was changed too if you had known me three years ago, before this unfortunate separation between us. Alice has told you all about it, of course?” he asked with conviction. “No, not one word.” “Do you mean to say that, living together in such close intimacy--sharing the same room, and no doubt sitting up half the night talking, as young ladies do--she has never made you her confidante?” “Not with regard to you. On any other subject she is as open as the day, but her married life she never alludes to; and well as I know her and love her--childish and young as she is--she is the last person into whose confidence I would thrust myself uninvited.” Just at this instant Alice, who had hitherto eluded Geoffrey, came running up exhausted and out of breath with laughing. “Save me, Mary, save me!” she cried, stretching out both hands, and at the same time catching her foot in the tennis-rope she would have measured her length on the sward, had not her husband stepped forward and caught her in his arms. It was altogether accidental, and only for a second that he held her, but Alice became crimson. “I cannot allow any more of this kind of thing,” he said, coolly picking up his tennis-bat. “Helen will be back this afternoon, and I am sure she will not hear of your going to the ball to-morrow if you knock yourself up to-day. I am going into Manister now, and I leave you in Miss Ferrars’ charge. I see Cardigan waiting, and as I have to change my clothes I must be off.” “By-the-way, Rex, before you go I want you to tell me something,” said Geoffrey with an air of unusual solemnity. “Yes?” responded Reginald, turning back and looking at him gravely. “Look sharp, then, for I’m in a hurry.” “You have been brought up amongst horses since you were the size of Maurice, and ought to know all about them, both from a civil and military point of view----” “Well, what is it?” impatiently. “On which side of a horse does the most hair grow?” “The side the mane is on.” “No; try again.” “The off side!--the near side!” “No. Give it up?” “Yes, of course I do.” “The outside! Good riddle, isn’t it?”