By this time we had pretty nearly reached the Rollers, so we waited for the other punts to come up, that containing Accrington, de Beresford and Ophelia being easily last. ‘Hullo Ophelia!’ cried Freddy as they came up, ‘I didn’t think it of you, waiting there under the bushes for such a time with de B. I suppose you felt rather out of it as gooseberry,’ he continued addressing Accrington. ‘My dear Frederick,’ called out Lady Blitherington from a punt propelled by the perspiring Pilot, ‘pray do not suggest such awful things. I am surprised at you.’ ‘Well, Aunt, if Ophelia will be such a giddy old thing, what can you expect?’ Freddy answered, as amid general confusion we disembarked at the Rollers. The Bugg had got as far as ‘You’re that pernicious to annoy one--’ when her boat hit the landing stage with a heavy thump, and her further remarks were lost. I noticed that in the general re-sorting which took place, the Pilot contrived that Accrington should have the honour of punting Lady Blitherington while he himself embarked with Miss MacNeill, who is sometimes described as ‘amusing’ and sometimes ‘forward,’ it all depends on the age and sex of the speaker. The Pilot, who is universally known as an old woman, says that a mean between the two would probably suit the case. ‘O Reggie,’ said Mrs. Lomond, as she stepped carefully out of Freddy’s canoe, ‘do come here for a minute, the bottom of that canoe was all wet.’ Reggie trotted gaily forward and marshalled her towards a disused bathing box following himself with a dish-cloth, but she gripped the door firmly and said ‘Oh no, you must send me a girl, this isn’t your innings, go and field outside.’ Reg commandeered Muriel, and Mrs. Lomond soon reappeared smiling, and murmured to me as I helped her into a punt, ‘I’ll pay Reggie out for that dish-cloth afterwards.’ We paddled round to pick up the ladies, and I found myself in de Beresford’s punt with Sybil Accrington and the Bugg, who positively declined to move into any other craft, though we all declared that the boat was dangerously full. Miss Accrington and I held pleasant converse amidships, while Ophelia, propped up by a four-gallon jar of claret cup and two hampers, chattered cheerfully to de Beresford, who was punting most skilfully. It is the one form of exercise that the dear old thing is addicted to, and so we are very careful never to deprive him of any opportunity to reduce his circumference. Among other things, I discovered, to my great gratification, that Sybil would be at the same place with us in the Vac.--pretty name Sybil. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were twittering, and everything was going beautifully, when the irresponsible Miss Bugg was nearly guilty of the manslaughter of all four of us. ‘Mr. de Beresford,’ she murmured with an ingratiating smile, ‘do you know I never care to see a musical comedy.’