“Drive on!” roared Frank, and on they went upon the instant, and Frank turned to look at Fenella. She was very pale, and very angry, with all the summer gladness gone out of her eyes and lips. “Frank,” she said, “never, _never_ will I submit to be made ridiculous. By to-morrow this time, the story will be all over the London clubs. Drive back to Harrogate with you I will not, and either you get down, or I will.” Frank never moved. “George!” “Yes, my lady.” She stamped her little foot. “How dare you call me that?” she said, in a furious underbreath. “Put me down!” George never budged an inch. The trot-trot of the horses’ feet maddened her, and she sprang up. “Fenella,” said Frank, winding his arm round her waist, “if you don’t sit tight, I’ll put you on my knee, and keep you there, and then I’ll _kiss_ you.” CHAPTER II. BY JUSTIN H. McCARTHY, M. P. KISMET. But, ah, that Spring should vanish with the rose. That youth’s sweet-scented manuscript should close. OMAR KHAYYAM. “Hulloa, Jacynth!” Jacynth awoke from his reverie with a start and stared at the speaker. He had quite forgotten where he was. Through the gray smoke of his cigarette he had conjured, as from some magic vapor, an enchanting face--a girl’s face--with hazel eyes and wonderful tan-colored hair. He had been in dreamland, and now he was only in the gardens of the hotel, and instead of his exquisite vision he found facing him a fat little man in white linen, who looked very hot and very jolly. “I say, Jacynth, don’t you remember me?” Jacynth did not remember, at least fully. He had a dim consciousness that the fat little figure ought to be familiar to him, but he could not remember where or why. He had not quite collected himself yet, and he was slightly annoyed at the interruption to his day-dream. Also he was annoyed at being annoyed and being discomposed by anything. No perplexing witness, no hostile counsel, no antagonistic judge had ever been known to ruffle Clitheroe Jacynth’s imperturbability. But then no vision with tan-colored hair and hazel eyes had ever come into court with him. He looked at the fat white figure, and shook his head gravely. “But I say, hang it all, Jacynth, don’t you remember that night in Cairo, and the dancing girls and the hasheesh den, and the row and all the rest of it?”