On the present occasion, Honor, seeing her husband walk away with his friend Jack Winthrop (their two heads laid together in eager conversation on some subject, probably equine, that demanded the undivided attention of both), allowed herself to be beguiled (after seeing her mother-in-law safely settled in a shady corner with her faithful adherent Widow Thwaytes by her side) to a portion of the grounds which she had not yet visited, but which, according to description, was a perfect paradise of delight. In a shady dell, forming an area of about three hundred yards in diameter, a little quiet recreation had been, at the request of Lady Guernsey’s children, prepared for the especial enjoyment of the small fry--_respectable_ small fry, _sous-entendu_--who had been bidden to the sports that day. There, on the short well-kept turf, was the miniature croquet-ground where the little Clays, with Honor Beacham as mistress of the revels, and a few other children, the belongings of some of the more important tenantry, were making the most of their holiday, and shouting gleefully to one another in their uproarious play. Such a “good time,” as the Yankees say, they had of it! Honor, the happiest of the happy, looking, as she stood there with her croquet-mallet in her hand, and stamping her small foot in playful petulance at the stupidity of her partner (the pickle Tommy of her governess-days), the impersonification of bright youth and unreflecting joy. “Now, Tommy, how could you, you stupid fellow! Why, that was _my_ ball; you had no business to knock _that_ away. Now, mind what you are about, like a good mite, and you shall have some _goodie-goodies_ when the game is over.” How pretty and animated she looked, while thus--acting on past experience of his character--exciting the recreant Tommy to rational behaviour by a bribe! That young gentleman seemed very far from amenable to reason. A merry, dark-eyed, gipsy-looking boy he was, bent upon tyrannous rule, while Honor, laughing at his tricks, was, with her two little gloved hands upon his shoulders, holding him back with playful determination that the other little ones, as this judicious umpire said, might have a chance. She was for the moment entirely absorbed in the childish game. Tommy, though an especial favourite, was, Honor laughingly declared, “so naughty;” and then her womanly love of protecting the weak had been called into play by the piteous appeal of a blue-eyed girl of six, who tearfully claimed her championship against the encroachments of that wicked Tom.