Dering of Dering being home again and his fame on every lip, it befell, to Sir John’s dismay, that the ‘Market Cross Inn’ was generally a-throng with visitors: sporting farmers who trotted up on their “bits o’ blood,” country gentry, bucks of the quality, and not a few ladies of fashion, all hither come to pay homage in their several ways to “the Wicked Dering.” To avoid whom, Sir John promptly shut himself above stairs attended by the Corporal, admitting none but Mr. Bunkle, adventuring abroad only after dark. His injured arm still irked him, but this he accounted nothing compared with the hurt he had suffered at my lady’s hands. In this situation he devoted the daylight hours to the Muse, and penned many and divers satyric pieces concerning men and manners in general and Woman in particular, with a view to publication in _The Satyric Spy, or Polite Monitor_; while his lampoon on the Sex entitled, “The Jade Equine and Feminine; or, The Horse the Nobler Animal,” progressed apace. It was then upon a sunny afternoon that he laid down his pen to stare at floor and ceiling and walls, and finally at Corporal Robert busied with books of accounts at a small table in adjacent corner. “Bob,” said he, with a yearning glance towards the open casement, “a guinea—five guineas for a suitable rhyme to Herminia!” Hereupon the Corporal glanced up, scratched his wig, rolled his eyes, and presently hazarded: “‘Within ye,’ your honour?” “’Tisn’t grammar, Bob.” “What o’ ‘Lavinia,’ sir?” “Rhymes truly but won’t suit.” “I can’t think of any other, sir.” “Neither can I, Bob ... ’tis the devil of a name!” “Then why not choose another, sir?” “Hum!” quoth Sir John. Here silence again, then: “What are ye doing there, Bob?” “Going through estimates for repairs o’ cottages at High Dering and Selmeston, your honour.” “Then take ’em for a walk.... She will help ye, Bob.” “Aye, sir, she can write as plain as I can, and a wondrous ’ead for figures—so mar-vellous quick, sir, and——” Here, meeting Sir John’s quizzical glance, the Corporal checked and actually flushed. “And a pretty head it is, Bob! When are ye going to get married?” “We thought two months from now, your honour.” Here Sir John sighed and glanced out of the window. “I hope you’ll be happy, Bob.” “Thank’ee, sir. I’m pretty sure o’ that.” Here Sir John sighed more deeply than before, then frowned as upon the door was a rapping of peremptory knuckles. “I’ll see nobody!” quoth he. “No one, you understand!” Here a louder knocking than ever. “Dammem, see who dares thus intrude, Bob.” Obediently the Corporal unlocked, unbolted and opened the door, when he was immediately caught up, lifted aside and Sir Hector strode in. “Losh, Johnnie man,” quoth he, “here’s four days by an’ never a glimpse o’ ye! An’ wherefore?” “Because I detest being a raree show to be stared at by the curious idle, for one thing. And because I desire solitude for another, Hector.”