“’Feel like it,” said Miss Grace. “And so would you, Dicky, had you been sitting up here all the jolly morning putting down Little Clumpton’s runs, watching Halliday batting like an angel, and Toddles dropping him, and ordinary club men smacking Charlie’s best for fours. 165 for one; isn’t it disgraceful? However, you had better come up here, Dicky, and I’ll give you an apple to keep you good.” “Can’t, much as I regret it,” said the Earl. “’Got my social duties to attend to.” “A useful yarn,” said Miss Grace. “And, Laura,” said the deep voice of Miss Grace’s parent, “I should like you to come down and attend to yours. There’s all the county here, and you’ve not even acknowledged them yet.” “’Haven’t seen one of ’em except in the distance,” said his ingenuous daughter. “You are scarcely likely to, if you carefully keep out of their way,” said the Rector. “Seems to be a lot o’ truth in that,” said Miss Grace, wagging her head very thoughtfully. “Funny I didn’t think of that before. But I tell you what, pater: if they ask you where I am, tell ’em I’ve got an old frock on, and that I’m afraid to face the music. It’ll please ’em awfully, and it won’t hurt me. See!” By the anxious expression on the old gentleman’s face it was evident that this proposal was not altogether in accordance with his ideas. He was deeply desirous of bringing his daughter round to his own point of view, yet didn’t know how. It was clearly a case for a mamma to exercise her prerogative, as a mere father is not made of stern enough stuff to thwart a daughter in the enjoyment of her own way. Miss Grace, however, was by no means insensible to her parent’s deeply solicitous look. “All right, father, I’ll come,” she said. Then, turning round to us, added in an apologetic undertone, “My old guv’nor’s such an awful good sort, don’t you see, that when he looks like that, I can’t resist him. But I sha’n’t stop long. Can’t stand a set o’ women inquiring whether I take any interest in cricket, and can I tell ’em what a maiden is, and what are those funny things that some o’ the men have got strapped on their legs? I shall cut early. And oh! I say, Cheery, will you do the scoring while I’m gone? ’Know how to take the analysis, don’t you? In red ink, mind. Here you are. Oh! and if you observe any of those public school cubs prowling round, don’t let ’em come up. Keep ’em down with your boot. Bye, bye; back soon!” Miss Grace then departed to do the right thing by her friends, just as the bell rang for the clearance of the ground. And as she walked, with the Earl on one side of her and her parent on the other, she looked not unlike a deserter being reluctantly led back in custody to her regiment. CHAPTER IX Record Breaking “POOR old Grace!” said the little parson. “Quite a martyr to public duty, isn’t she? I didn’t think she’d go.”