And while she pitied him, Mr. O'Boyneville settled himself complacently to his placid slumber, and mused upon the evening's adventures as he fell asleep. "You are very haughty and you're very resolute; but you'll marry me sooner or later, for all that, my bright Cecil, my beautiful Cecil. It isn't possible for a man to be as much in earnest as I am, and yet wind up by making a failure." CHAPTER XII. MR. O'BOYNEVILLE'S MOTION FOR A NEW TRIAL. The Nasedale picnic, or the Nasedale archery-meeting, was a success; but it may be that the noble supply of sparkling wines, the gorgeous banquet of delicate viands, set forth under a spacious marquee, contributed as much as the excitement of the toxophilite contest to the gaiety of the day. Mr. O'Boyneville forgot his profession, and behaved as if he had spent the greater part of his existence at toxophilite meetings and picnics. Cecil heard more than one young lady declare that the Irishman was the life of the party, and she had reason to be grateful to him for his delicate avoidance of her; even though her good taste might compel her to condemn his too obvious flirtation with more than one fair damsel in Lincoln green. But if Cecil was glad to be released from the attentions of the Queen's Counsel, Cecil's aunt was by no means pleased with the altered aspect of affairs. She glowered upon the unconscious O'Boyneville from the distance whence she watched his proceedings, and was snappishly disposed towards the young ladies with whom he had flirted whenever they happened to cross her path. Once only in the course of the day had she any opportunity of addressing her niece confidentially, and then her manner assumed its bitterest shade. "I hope you are satisfied _now_, Lady Cecil Chudleigh," she said. And at night, when the long day's festivity and flirtation, and archery and croquet, and dust and sunshine, had at length come to a close, Mrs. MacClaverhouse was eager to attack her dependant. But Cecil stopped her at the first word. "Pray do not say any more about this business, auntie," she said, in a quiet resolute tone. "If you are angry with me because I am unwilling to marry Mr. O'Boyneville, whom you wish me to marry only because he is rich, I must submit to your anger, and leave you. I will not stop with you to be persecuted upon such a subject; and if I have displeased you, I can only thank you for all your past goodness to me and bid you good-bye." If people ever said "Hoity-toity!" Mrs. MacClaverhouse was just in the humour to have indulged in such an ejaculation. But she contented herself with exclaiming,