"So as to be ready to see you coming your games," said the maid, laughing, "Ha, ha, ha! He thought it was his aunt, ketching him on the hop!" "That I didn't, old saucy one." "Yes, you did, and I've a good mind to tell her what a beauty you are-- there!" "Do; and I'll tell her what I saw in the shrubbery last week. Mark my words; see if I don't I will; mark my words." "You tell if you dare!" cried the maid, with flaming face. "Oh, I dare." "But you won't. You wouldn't be such a coward. I say, going out?" "Yes, I want some sandwiches--a good lot. And, look here, get uncle's flask and half fill it with milk, and then fill it up with sherry." "What for? What are you going to do?" "The May-fly's up." "Up where?" "Get out! Over the river. I'm going fishing." "Don't believe you. You're going to the races." "Sh!" the boy hissed, and looked sharply round. "There, I knew it!" cried the girl. "I'll tell her ladyship, and stop that." "Just you do. I'm going whipping the stream." "Don't believe it. But she'll be whipping you for a naughty boy." "Shrubbery and old Mark," said the boy, thoughtfully, as if speaking to himself. "Wonder what sort of a pair the new parlourmaid and groom and valet would be?" "Oh, you!" cried the girl, with scarlet face and flashing eyes, in which the tears began to rise, making her dart out of the room so that they should not be seen. "Checkmate, Miss Dustpan!" said Sydney, with a chuckle. "What a sharp one she is, though. My word! I never liked old Trim before. He's off on some game of his own. Artful old beast! He isn't such a saint as he pretends. Can't be going to the races, can he? No, not he; not in his line. Spree in London's more in his way. A beast, though, to talk like that. Knows too much about such matters. I wish I could find out something, and get him under my thumb, as I have saucy Jenny. How the beggar made me jump!" He glanced round at the vase he had nearly broken, then at the door, and directly after at the window, to which he ran and looked out, for there was the grating sound of wheels on the drive, but growing fainter and fainter. "My word! Isn't the old girl quick at putting on her hat and scarf! She's safe for the day. Bravo, old Trimmer! Just when I was done up for an idea to slope off. Fish rising? Yes, I'll rise 'em. Cookie'll have hard work to fry all the trout I catch to-day. Phew! There goes another brake. Blow up, you beauty! Why, auntie would have just met them tittuping along. They must have scared the ponies into fits. She can't half hold them." He turned from the window, listening the while, though, to the rattle of wheels and the trotting of horses down the road, and after a glance at the door, through which the little maid had passed, he drew a note from his pocket and began to spell it over in a low voice.