"A most pretty speech indeed," said Peggy Baker. "Another of Miss Pleydell's swains, I suppose?" "My brother," said Nancy, "has been Kitty's swain since he was old enough to walk; that is, about the time when Kitty was born. He is as old a swain as Mr. Temple here." "I don't know naught about swains," said Will, "but I'm Kitty's sweetheart. And if any man says nay to that, why let him step to the front, and we'll have that business settled on the grass, and no time wasted." "Brother," cried Nancy, greatly incensed by a remark of such low breeding, "remember that you are here among gentlemen, who do not fight with cudgels and fists for the favours of ladies." "Nay, dear Miss Levett," said Peggy, laughing; "I find Mr. William vastly amusing. No doubt we might have a contest, a tournament after the manner of the ancients, with Miss Pleydell as the Queen of Beauty, to give her favours to the conquering knight. I believe we can often witness a battle with swords and pistols, if we get up early enough, in Hyde Park; but a duel with fists and cudgels would be much more entertaining." "Thank you, miss," said Will. "I should like to see the man who would stand up against me." "I think," Lord Chudleigh interposed, "that as no one is likely to gratify this gentleman's strange invitation, we may return to the town. Miss Pleydell, we wait your orders." Will was about to say something rude, when his sister seized him by the arm and whispered in his ear. "O Lord! a lord!" he cried. "I beg your lordship's pardon. There, that is just like you, Nancy, not to tell me at the beginning. Well, Kitty, I am going to look after the horse. Then I will come to see thee." "Your admirer is a bucolic of an order not often found among the sons of such country gentlemen as Sir Robert Levett," said Lord Chudleigh presently. "He is addicted to horses and dogs, and he seems to consider that he may claim--or show--some sort of equal attachment to me," I answered. Then I told him the story of the broken sixpence, and how I became engaged, without knowing it, to both Harry Temple and Will Levett on the same day. My lord laughed, and then became grave. "I do not wonder," he said, "that all classes of men have fallen in love with the sweetest and most charming of her sex. That does not surprise me. Still, though we have disposed of Mr. Temple, who is, I am bound to say, a gentleman open to reason, there may be more trouble with this headstrong country lad, who is evidently in sober earnest, as I saw from his eyes. What shall we do, Kitty?" "My lord," I whispered, "let me advise for your safety. Withdraw yourself for a while from Epsom. Give up Durdans and go to London. I could not bear to see you embroiled with this rude and boisterous clown. Oh, how could such a woman as Lady Levett have such a son? Leave me to deal with him as best I can." But he laughed at this. To be sure, fear had no part in the composition of this noble, this incomparable man.