Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/details/sandymarriedOOcony 
 
I 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 THE STRAYINGS OF SANDY 
 THREE GIRLS AND A HERMIT 
 TWO IMPOSTORS AND TINKER 
 THE CONVERSION OF CONCREGAN 
 AUNT JANE AND UNCLE JAMES 
 LADY ELVERTON’s EMERALDS 
 SOME HAPPENINGS OF GLENDALYNE 
 THE BOY, SOME HORSES, AND A GIRL 
 SALLY 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 BY 
 
 DOROTHEA CONYERS 
 
 METHUEN & GO. LTD. 
 36 ESSEX STREET W.G. 
 LONDON 
 
-afc 
 
 tT\ 
 
 .$y? 
 
 I '7/3 
 
 /VV.r/ Published in IQ13 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Ha ! Oh ! my life ! If I were young again. 
 
 — Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
 R EGINALD HANNYSIDE looked critically at the 
 hand-rail of the rustic bridge he was walking* across, 
 and directed that it should be renewed at once. 
 
 “ With oak,” he said. “ wSee to it, Wilson. Send to 
 Northlap for proper stuff. It was disgraceful ever to 
 have put on this wretched wood.” 
 
 Sandy Acland looked at the woods all round with a 
 surprised air. The bough tops were green with promise 
 of summer ; twigs and stout branches and sturdy trunks 
 made tangling maze all round. 
 
 “Send to Northlap” said Sandy. “Haven’t you got a 
 hatchet, Wilson ? There’s enough wood here for a hundred 
 rails, Reggie.” 
 
 Hannyside pursed his lips. “ Alex.,” he said sharply 
 “ green stuff which might last five years.” 
 
 “ Well, there’ll be heaps more in five years, won’t there ? ” 
 said Sandy equably. 
 
 The big park stretched round them, tidy even in its 
 vastness. Young trees grew inside their iron guards; the 
 palings shone new-painted, white, and smooth. A herd 
 of delicately coloured Jersey cows cropped the rich grass, 
 graceful, black-muzzled things, each one with a recorded 
 pedigree. 
 
 Half a mile away a big house stood out, clear cut in the 
 spring sunlight. A great pile of mellow brick, smoke 
 pouring from a dozen chimneys ; a place which seemed to 
 speak arrogantly of wealth. 
 
2 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “Search me for peeling walls, for a speck of disrepair," it 
 might have said. “ My owner must treat me as I expect 
 to be treated. If one of my slates is loosened, half a dozen 
 tradesmen must come to repair it ; when my face wants 
 its annual painting, the bill for it represents a clerk's yearly 
 income." 
 
 The trim opulence of England was all round. The 
 woods were no wild straggle of undergrowth ; laurels were 
 pinned down and trimmed ; paths and rides were cleared 
 and tidy. 
 
 “ Heaps more," said Sandy again. “ Waste of money 
 buying oak for one's grandchildren to put their hands 
 on, eh ? ” 
 
 Mr. Hannyside looked thoughtfully at his guest. 
 
 “ Go to Northlap this afternoon, Wilson," he said drily, 
 “ and order the rails." 
 
 “ Better buy a hatchet,” said Sandy absently, as he peered 
 down into the stream. 
 
 “ You have changed, Alex.," said Hannyside slowly. 
 
 Sandy hoped that he had. The river glided between 
 its flat banks, in shades of translucent grey and green ; here 
 and there little crinkles broke it, or silver flash of shallow. 
 Long wisps of weed hung out, green and plumy ; there 
 were a few brown deeps, where big trout might lurk. 
 
 Sandy’s hands were across his eyes. Peering into the 
 slowly moving water, he caught sight of a trout lurking 
 between weed and rock, a fish of two pounds or more. 
 
 “There!" said Sandy, “good fish! Full of ’em, I 
 suppose," he looked up at the hatchery. “ Full of ’em," 
 he said. “If Mikelo was here," he added, “he’d get that 
 fellow by tickling him. Or," Sandy leant over further, 
 “ he’d do a lot with a cross-line, when no one was look- 
 ing." 
 
 “ A cross-line," Hannyside groaned ; and the head man 
 made respectful echo: “A cross-line. Here, on the 
 Litchen ! Do you poach in Ireland, Alexander? " 
 
 “ Do you think you’d get an Irish country fellow to take 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3 
 
 a fish out on a line and a fly if he could do it otherwise ?” 
 grinned Sandy, pleasantly. “ If one winks at it, they don’t 
 do it aggressively, that’s all. Brr ! ” he threw a stone at 
 the trout. “ England’s terrible tidy — even the rivers are 
 trimmed up.” 
 
 Mr. Wilson, bailiff and steward, might have been heard 
 to murmur from the depths of a crimson face, that “ ’E ’ad 
 marked down that there trout for Mr. Hildebrand, and 
 now he would move on.” 
 
 “You have changed, Alexander,” said Hannyside. 
 “ Sadly.” 
 
 “ Lord, no ! — gaily ! ” said Sandy placidly. 
 
 They walked through the shade of a beech wood, silver 
 stems and lace of tender green, for the spring was just 
 bidding good day to summer. Rides were cut, wide and 
 even ; the undergrowth was trimmed and trained. Even 
 the anemones, carpeting the ground with white and blue, 
 looked as if they had been planted ; the wood ended on a 
 stretch of grass close to white railings, running round the 
 tall red brick house. Inside them rhododendrons flared, 
 and azaleas blinked, and a wealth of spring flowers blazed 
 under hot April sunshine. 
 
 “ Changed, have I ? ” Sandy looked up quietly at his 
 friend’s grey face. If he had changed, he was not marked 
 by a fatal illness ; he was not old and white and bent. 
 
 Ten years, the stride from middle fifties to middle 
 sixties, is a large one. He had left Hannyside well-pre- 
 served ; a little careful as to his choice of hair dyes ; but 
 well set up, active, healthy. He met him again, and saw 
 him an old man, close on seventy, with the same grim 
 humour twinkling in his eyes and round his firmly cut 
 mouth. “ A little odd,” people whispered now of Mr. 
 Reginald Hannyside. 
 
 “Fine place, ain’t it, Alexander? And — I don’t know 
 who to leave it to. That is why I sent for you. Hey 
 there ! ” he swung the gate back sharply, “ this gate is in 
 a piteous state. 1 have not been down this way for two 
 
4 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 months. Only just back from abroad. Hey there ! 
 Wilson ! ” 
 
 “ They can give it a lick over in ten minutes/’ observed 
 Sandy. “ Give me a pot and a brush, if you like, I’ll do it 
 now.” 
 
 “ Without, I presume, scraping or burning off the old 
 paint,” said Ilannyside calmly. “ May I ask what your 
 place is like, Alexander ? ” 
 
 Sandy’s face grew bright. “ The best in the world,” he 
 said. “ And everything gets done in time, too. Of course, 
 there were twenty or thirty years to run after ; we’ve only 
 caught bits of them ; but if you saw it, Reggie — and the 
 old gardens, and the stables— they’re all new. And the 
 horses — and Nora.” 
 
 Northlap Priory boasted a veranda over its terrace. 
 It was warm and sheltered there. Hannyside directed 
 that tea should be brought out. He sat down heavily on 
 a long cane chair, looking out at the trim Park. It was 
 plain to see that he hated leaving his home. Then, 
 recollecting hospitality, he offered Sandy a cocktail. 
 
 “ Bless you — no thanks ! ” said Sandy. “ Sauces and 
 liqueurs nearly did for me once. I live on whisky now.” 
 
 Mr. Hannyside looked apologetically at his butler, who, 
 with the assistance of two footmen, was solemnly endeavour- 
 ing to lay a tea-table. 
 
 “ Not altogether, y’ know,” said Sandy, catching the 
 look. “ Though they tell me it preserves life,” 
 
 Marston, having placed a chased silver tea set on a 
 laced cloth, and arranged a seed cake and some bread- 
 and-butter beside them, observed coldly that tea was 
 served. 
 
 Sandy took some black and chilly tea without enthusiasm ; 
 with a sad look in his eyes he watched his host sipping hot 
 bovril. 
 
 “ Alexander,” said Hannyside, “ are you completely 
 buried alive in that hopeless country? ” 
 
 “ I’m completely happy there,” said Sandy. “ And we 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 5 
 
 come to London twice a year. I come to wonder how I 
 ever lived in town, and went to my office, and toddled to 
 my club, and played Bridge vilely, and called it life.” 
 
 “ But — do you mean to say you are content to stagnate,” 
 barked Hannyside, “not to try to make more money — to 
 get on ? ” 
 
 “ Even a gold coffin can’t cheer a fellow up when he’s in 
 it,” observed Sandy equably. “ I had made enough ; bless 
 you ! I’m a millionaire at Castleknock. Alexander the 
 Great will waste my substance serving the king ; and 
 Nora already thinks of a stray Duke for Kathleen, my 
 daughter. If you’d given up the arena ten years before 
 you did, Reggie,” he paused. 
 
 The old man’s face grew suddenly very old. Years of 
 toil ; a few years of rest with a large fortune, but with 
 broken health ; with a fell disease which could not be 
 cured. He had Northlapf Priory ; he had his stud of racers ; 
 but he had got them all too late. He sighed bitterly, 
 peevishly ; and took up the evening paper. 
 
 “ Gold Dreams are going up,” he said. “ I’ll sell mine at 
 fours ; but I am nervous about Mammons — very nervous. 
 I’ll ’phone to Naughton in the morning.” 
 
 Sandy yawned, and wondered if he might have more 
 bread-and-butter; he had cleared the plate of wafers. 
 
 “ If I could have a little more,” he said pleasantly to 
 Marston, who had arrived with cigarettes. “ Of course, if 
 the butter’s out, or anything, the cake will do.” 
 
 The outraged face of Mr. Marston was as ice and thunder 
 adroitly blended. He sought for words to crush this red- 
 headed guest who spoke of necessary things being “ out ” 
 in households which he, Marston, accepted service in ; and 
 could think of no revenge save that of directing an under- 
 ling to cut three plates full of brown and white and home- 
 made bread, and to cut them slowly. 
 
 “Want anything?” said Hannyside, turning. “Oh, 
 bread-and-butter. They ought to have brought toast or 
 muffins. Toast, Marston.” 
 
6 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ H’m ! Tell Mrs. Peters toast is required also,” directed 
 the offended butler, and then in a whisper, “ Nothing but 
 potatoes, I hunderstands, at the other side of the Channel 
 — bread a change.” 
 
 “At six,” said Hannyside, “we’ll go to the stables. 
 There is Red Fancy to see. And Delight ; and either of 
 them might win a National. I’ve tried for twenty years,” 
 he said excitedly. “ The Northlap stable must do it still. 
 Must, I say ! The blue-and-silver hoop must come first at 
 Aintree. I’ve never had luck with the horses, Alexander, 
 never! Bed Post fell when he must have won. Ben Nevis 
 broke down the day before the race ; and Cromartie began 
 to cough just when he’d done a good preparation.” 
 
 Reginald Hannyside’s face worked feverishly. His seat 
 upon his hobby horse was now secure. He had tried to 
 win a National for twenty years, and never seen his colours 
 in front. 
 
 “But that,” he said, “is not what I brought you from 
 Ireland to talk of, Alexander. I am not sure what to do 
 with the place and the horses.” 
 
 Sandy gave up hopes of bread-and-butter, and fell to 
 smoking. 
 
 “ Who’s your nearest and least unpleasant relation ? ” he 
 said shortly. 
 
 Mr. Hannyside chuckled grimly. “ There are two,” he 
 said. “ Both near — equally unpleasant. Hildebrand, son 
 of my only sister ; Araminta, daughter of my only brother. 
 
 Araminta — Hildebrand ” Hannyside grew exhausted, 
 
 and took a lozenge from his pocket. 
 
 “ Marry ’em,” suggested Sandy, petting an engaging 
 Clumber spaniel. 
 
 Reginald Hannyside grunted hopelessly. “ My sister 
 Maud,” he said, “ married a Bethel angel, or something of 
 that ilk. Hildebrand won’t go to ordinary church ; he does 
 something with forks and bursts of original oratory. An 
 organ is an appeal to Satan. He can’t do with our prayers. 
 Araminta ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 7 
 
 “Ara — minta — A — r — a ,” said Sandy to Bob, the 
 
 Clumber. “ Funny name, Bobbie.” 
 
 “ Araminta is a person with a mission in life. My 
 family are not happy in their selections. My brother’s 
 wife looked on widowhood as a kind of holiday, and took 
 to politics and religion to console her.” 
 
 “ But if both are religious,” said Sandy briskly, “then 
 certainly marry ’em.” 
 
 “Marry ’em.” Hannyside stamped his foot. “They’d 
 have to be married in a graveyard. If Hildebrand 
 is a Plymouth angel — I may have got it wrong ; Ara- 
 minta ” 
 
 “ Ar — a — mint — a,” crooned Sandy softly. 
 
 “ Yes, Araminta is nearly a Catholic. Can you marry a 
 person who thinks a church too ornamental to pray in, and 
 a lady who goes to confession, and wears a cross, and fasts 
 in Lent? But I’ll settle ’em, perhaps I’ll settle ’em.” He 
 chuckled cunningly. “ I’ve made my will, Alex., though I 
 have sent for you. I’ve made it, and I’m hanged if I know 
 where it is.” 
 
 “ Make another,” said Sandy absently. 
 
 Mr. Hannyside shook his white head. It appeared he 
 could never again compass so many legal complications in 
 any will, and he liked complications. “ I made it,” he said 
 vaguely, “but fact is, I’ve got no head, my boy. I had it 
 with me in France. You know I’ve rented a villa near 
 Paris for a few years ; and I had it in Scotland — and I 
 must just write round and get it found.” 
 
 “ Bread-and-butter, sir. Toast, sir,” said Marston, with 
 impressive superiority, laying down three plates and a 
 muffin dish. 
 
 Sandy thanked him graciously. 
 
 “ Forgotten tea now,” he said cheerily. “ Butter came 
 all right since, I suppose. Here, Bob ! ” 
 
 Mr. Marston breathed through his nose, as he remarked 
 that in this establishment butter was never lacking. 
 
 “ But locked up, p’r’aps,” said Sandy, sympathetically. 
 
8 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ Cook out. Sorry to have asked for it. Here, Bob, old 
 boy.” 
 
 Marston stood in Jove-like majesty as the footmen cleared 
 the table. He was offended. He did not know where this 
 guest could have come from. 
 
 Mr. Hannyside got up. He looked enviously at Sandy’s 
 easy jump from his low chair. He muttered something 
 about fellows keeping young like that for a certain time. 
 
 “ It’s young Blackbird,” said Sandy, “ Blackbird’s 
 daughter. One has to be active with her. It’s that and 
 the west winds and the hammers and nails.” There’s no 
 oak for coffins in Ireland. We have to keep young, he 
 was going to say, but bit back the foolish jest. 
 
 The stables were half a mile away. They drove there in 
 a luxurious motor, over an avenue through the Park. The 
 training ground, with its stiff, bushed-up fences, was farther 
 on. They were big and grim as the obstacles at Aintree, 
 and it took a good horse to get over them. 
 
 The failures and the future hopes were just getting their 
 last feed. With a memory of Crimson Rambler, now 
 deceased, tingling through him, Sandy Acland looked at 
 the range of sumptuous boxes ; at the golden piles of 
 wheaten straw under the horses ; the silvery hay which was 
 being carefully carried in for them to eat. 
 
 There was no “ Get over, Brownie — over with ye, ye 
 schemer,” as Patsy flung bundles down through the square 
 holes between stable and loft. 
 
 “ Blinded that Crow does want to be,” Patsy would 
 grumble, (< with his eye sot above on what’s failin’ to 
 him.” 
 
 Watson, the head man, observed the mysterious dignity 
 necessary to his class. He listened with the condescension 
 of a grown man to a child, as his master praised and 
 criticized and questioned. 
 
 Mr. Watson would, of course, strip Red Fancy, if his 
 master wished it. 
 
 “ But a nervous oss, sir, an’ not fed yet, sir.” Watson 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 9 
 
 chinked silver in his pockets softly. “ Still, as you wish, 
 sir, of course.” 
 
 “ Remind you of the Downs, sir,” said a voice behind 
 Sandy ; “ of Ramblers and otherwise, sir.” 
 
 Acland turned to see Phillips, imperturbably valet-like ; 
 unchanged by the passage of ten years, and grave as if he 
 had never whipped a mule across the hills, or ridden Holy 
 Robin in the wall country near Athgarvon. 
 
 “ Phillips ! ” said Mr. Acland reprovingly. 
 
 “ Walked down to see the horses, sir. All jumping 
 horses, so was doubly interested, sir.” 
 
 “ Your man,” said Hannyside, “ is a sportsman, I see.” 
 Sandy observed, resignedly, that he feared Phillips was. 
 Reginald Hannyside’s eyes grew bright with enthusiasm, 
 bitter with futile regret, as he looked at his favourites. 
 Year by year he had striven vainly, pinched himself before 
 riches came to him, to have his representative in the 
 National. Bought recklessly now that he could afford it, 
 and still success eluded him. The “ little queerness ” which 
 his physicians alluded to was wiped away as he peered at 
 Delight and Red Fancy, at Hackler’s Boy, and Pop-Gun. 
 Red Fancy had run well in last month’s National, finishing 
 fifth, and had then been purchased. 
 
 “ He’s the one to do it,” said Hannyside. “ Look at him, 
 Sandy, he’s the model of a chaser. Look, man, look ! The 
 handsomest horse in England. He only wants age.” 
 
 As the blue rugs fell from the mirror-like coat, Red 
 Fancy was revealed as a great, lathering chestnut, a little 
 over-topped, a little heavy, to please Sandy’s eyes, in the 
 shoulder ; but a magnificent horse, with great quarters and 
 powerful hocks. 
 
 “ He’ll do it. He must do it ! ” babbled his owner. 
 “ There’s a horse, Alex., there’s a horse.” 
 
 “ Remarkably fine animal, sir,” said Phillips gravely. 
 “They must patch me up for it. I must see this fellow 
 win. He fenced without a fault this year ; he’s only eight ; 
 I’ve never had a horse like him — never ! ” 
 
IO 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Watson stood smiling benignly. Here was something 
 which the hunting gentleman from Ireland was not likely 
 to see. A chaser in the pride of his career, trained and fed 
 by Mr. Thomas Watson. 
 
 “ Not much amiss there, sir,” said Watson condescend- 
 ingly. 
 
 Sandy’s views upon horses had changed since the days 
 when he had made a complete circuit of the Crimson 
 Rambler, and stopped aghast as he had observed the tube 
 in that worthy animal’s throat. 
 
 “ Nice horse,” said Sandy thoughtfully ; “ but ” 
 
 “Yes, sir,” said Watson, with urbane condescension. 
 “ Yes, sir ? ” 
 
 “ He looks as if he might not go on through dirt,” 
 said Sandy slowly. “ Over-topped a bit, and his hocks 
 away from him.” 
 
 “ Might fail in the heavy going round Currie,” observed 
 Phillips. “ Would not mind a mount there all the time, 
 sir.” 
 
 “ Phillips ! ” said Sandy sharply. 
 
 “ Certainly, sir,” replied Phillips, lapsing into silence. 
 
 “Sheet that ’oss,” said Watson in pitying tones. “ Sheet 
 him, Joe. When the eye, sir, gets used to the cocktailed 
 ’unter, it is difficult to judge thoroughbreds, sir,” he said, 
 kindly, as one who wished to be civil to his master’s guest. 
 “ That, sir, is the best-looking chaser in England, sir. 
 Blood, bone, stamina ; faults, sir, are himpossible to find ; 
 but, of course, as I say, when the heye gits used to the 
 cocktailed . . .” 
 
 “ All long tails at Castleknock,” murmured Phillips. 
 “ Missus most particular as to tails, Mr. Watson — most. 
 Several boys killed pulling them tails, in fact — several.” 
 
 “ Phillips ! ” called Sandy again. 
 
 “ Well, one was, sir,” said Phillips. “ Mikey Donoghan, 
 sir.” 
 
 “ Killed,” said Hannyside. “ Killed — my God ! ” 
 
 “ Quite unconscious for an hour, sir,” said Phillips. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 1 1 
 
 “ Never — er — blasphemed once, until he recovered, so must 
 have been. Took us ten minutes to tie up his bruise, and 
 most ungracious, sir; threatened to use force with the 
 injured limb when his head ceased swimming, sir, because 
 the bandages were too tight. Two of Mary’s dusters and 
 a roller towel made most secure, sir.” 
 
 “ But then — he was not dead,” said Hannyside, blinking 
 at the valet. 
 
 “ Impossible to kill an Irish boy outright, sir,” said 
 Phillips consolingly. “ The worst of it was, it made 
 Lady Locket self-willed about her tail, sir, for all that 
 season.” 
 
 “ Phillips ! ” said Sandy again. 
 
 “ This is Delight,” said Mr. Watson, with polite 
 reminder. 
 
 Delight was represented by a big, Roman-nosed head 
 and four doubtful legs. If they could be kept right, he 
 might yet earn brackets; but the “if” was a large one. 
 A nervous, irritable horse ; he lashed out as they came in, 
 squealing peevishly. 
 
 The chasers of lesser repute were to be looked at next 
 day. They passed on to Pop-Gun, a descendant of 
 Carbines, a powerful brown, a little on the plain side, with 
 legs of iron and perfect shoulders. A long, low horse, but 
 no favourite of Watson’s. 
 
 “A pig to eat and a pig to get to gallop,” said Watson, 
 discontentedly. “ But as you can’t throw him down, Mr. 
 Hannyside trains him on. We bred this one, sir.” 
 
 “ I like him,” said Sandy, looking in, “ much better than 
 Red Fancy.” 
 
 “You would, sir?” said Watson, blandly. “You- — would, 
 sir?” 
 
 The bland contempt in Watson’s voice was unmistak- 
 able. He slid some more riches through his fingers, and 
 coughed politely. 
 
 “ Sheet him, Edward,” he said royally. “ You think they 
 look well, sir? Horses in Ireland, I am told, very rough, 
 
12 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 though fit to go ; but, of course, with bog peat bedding 
 Hand black oats, you labour under a difficulty, ’Oss came 
 ’ere once from Ireland — took us three days washin’ ’im to 
 clean ’im.” 
 
 “ It was a jarvey horse,” said Hannyside apologetically. 
 “ One I bought at the show for a trapper.” 
 
 Here Phillips, thoughtfully inspecting an empty ear 
 of wheat, asked, with extreme politeness, what bog peat 
 bedding was. “ Only seeing hunters,” said Mr. Phillips, 
 with childlike curiosity, “ which is bedded on straw, I 
 should like to know.” 
 
 “ Bog peat beddin’,” Mr. Watson said frostily, “ is all 
 they have in Ireland ; the boy who brought that there 
 jarvey horse told me so ; and ‘ yallowmal,’ which I imagines 
 is maize.” 
 
 “ Potatoes,” Phillips suggested, “ is also used, Mr. Watson ; 
 likewise bacon rinds and egg-shells; very clearing, the 
 latter to soup, so, no doubt, to wind — and ” 
 
 Sandy went hurriedly after his friend, who was going on 
 to the boxes of the failures, kept luxuriously in their 
 decline. He left Phillips and Watson to thrash out the 
 merits of feeding stuffs as used in Ireland and England, 
 and he felt sure that Watson would learn of several 
 curious condiments before night. 
 
 Here was old Ben Nevis, hobbling a little, but fat and 
 blooming ; Kathleen, a matron now, with a long-legged 
 foal beside her ; old Rouge Royal and Cromartie. 
 
 The horses had a big paddock to range in by day ; 
 their days of trial and stress were over. 
 
 “ They did their best for me ” — old Hannyside patted Ben 
 Nevis’s tan nose, so I keep them. They’ll be kept until 
 they can’t eat well, and then they’ll die easily. But I’ll go 
 first, Alexander — I must go first.” 
 
 Biting his thin fingers — a sudden futile blaze of wrath in 
 his eyes. Money, science, wishing, could not keep him 
 among his beloved horses. He was here with the rustle of 
 straw in his ears ; with his stud all round him ; with the 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 13 
 
 new hope of his career, and there had been several, fit and 
 well in the same box, and he must leave the horses ; there 
 was no hope. 
 
 “ But I’ll see Red Fancy win,” he muttered. “ I must see 
 , that. I must see that ; the blue-and-silver shall be first yet. 
 And if not in my time — after it — after it. I won’t give up, 
 Alex., I won’t give it up.”; 
 
 Sandy smoked in silence. He felt that it would be cruel 
 to ask how a dead man meant to go on racing ; then 
 suddenly he saw light. 
 
 “ Heaps of life in you yet,” he said gently and kindly. 
 “You mean you’re going to have the stable carried on, 
 Reggie.” 
 
 “ If I don’t win before I go,” Hannyside muttered. 
 “Yes; carried on. Wait — wait until you see ’em, Alex- 
 ander ; the heirs that must come after me — one or the 
 other — Lord ! ” 
 
 “Decided yet?” Sandy inquired. “Will really fixes 
 it?” 
 
 The look of childish cunning, so often visible in old eyes, 
 came into Reginald Hannyside’s. He said, with a low 
 chuckle, that they would see — they would see. “ And 
 you’re executor,” he added, “and trustee, and everything. 
 That’s what I sent for you about — to ask you not to 
 refuse.” He stopped to pant ; they were walking back. 
 “ There’s a third one,” he said, “ a little cousin, Alexander ; 
 but not a niece or a nephew. Now if I could leave it to 
 her — if I could — I must find my will, Alexander, and show 
 it you. It’s a puzzler, my will — and there’s a codicil for 
 you, because I don’t trust Araminta.” 
 
 “A — r — a — mint— a, a,” sang Sandy to himself. 
 
 “Or Hildebrand,” said Hannyside. 
 
 Phillips overtook them and walked respectfully in the 
 background, until Hannyside called him up. 
 
 “ You are fond of horses ? ” he said. 
 
 “ From the days of the Crimson Rambler, sir,” said 
 Phillips, “and Holy Robin, I have adored them. Mr. 
 
14 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Acland, sir, won a race on the Crimson Rambler, sir ; like- 
 wise on Holy Robin. Doubly, sir, same day.” 
 
 “ You were better at riding on a bus when I knew you,” 
 said Hannyside to Sandy. 
 
 “ Horses does look wonderful well in England,” went 
 on Phillips. “ Very superior gentleman, Mr. Watson.” A 
 
 Hannyside eyed Phillips suspiciously. 
 
 “ Would like to show him the other side of the Channel, 
 sir,” said Phillips kindly. “ He was quite interested in our 
 stable methods, sir.” 
 
 “Phillips,” said Sandy, “get on and get my things 
 ready.” 
 
 “ Certainly, sir,” said Phillips cheerfully. 
 
 “ Since that man,” said Sandy, “ came with me to 
 Cahervalley, and married Bridget, he has been impossible. 
 He hunts three days a week now — buys his own horses, 
 and keeps them.” 
 
 “ Good gracious ! — your valet,” said Hannyside. “ Your 
 man ! ” 
 
 “ Exceedingly often my master,” said Acland placidly. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 The matter being afoot, keep your instruction. 
 
 — Measure for Measure . 
 
 “ T\ /T ISS CYNJOHN MELLICOMBE,” announced 
 1V1 Marston sonorously. 
 
 Mr. Hannyside’s niece advanced rigidly into the room. 
 She had cultivated rigidity as an art — in her own mind it 
 was written maidenly dignity. When she sat down, she 
 appeared to break in two at the waist ; when she got 
 up, she jointed into something straight and angular. 
 She shook hands with a cold jerk ; she ate with a stiff 
 care. 
 
 Araminta was tall ; she was flat chested, but heavily 
 built ; she wore an elaborate, sombre coat and skirt, and a 
 white blouse, with a black cross suspended on a diamond- 
 studded chain — her only ornament. 
 
 “ Evenin’, Araminta.” Hannyside endured a rigid peck 
 upon his cheek with manifest resignation. “ Mr. Acland — 
 Miss Mellicombe.” 
 
 Araminta corrected her uncle by adding “ Cynjohn.” 
 She allowed herself a martyred sigh as Hannyside grunted 
 out that she had only tacked that on because there was a 
 saint in it. 
 
 “ It was my dear departed father’s name,” said Araminta 
 gravely, “the name of an old family — so now I use it. 
 Thank you, Marston — how thoughtful of you.” 
 
 Marston, despite the hour of six, had appeared with tea 
 upon a tray. It was poured out, cold and strong, but Miss 
 Mellicombe sipped it enthusiastically. She belonged to the 
 type which is tyrannical to their own servants and apologetic 
 to other people’s. 
 
 15 
 
i6 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ Parson well ? ” said her uncle gruffly. 
 
 “ Mr. Eustace preached with fervour yesterday,” said 
 Araminta enthusiastically. 
 
 Mr. Hannyside grunted thoughtfully before he asked his 
 niece if she had fixed the engagement. 
 
 Miss Mellicombe put down her tea-cup with some 
 temper as she replied that the Rev. Arthur Eustace did^not 
 approve of married priests, and it certainly seemed unkind 
 of Hannyside to remark at this point, “Then that’s all 
 right,” in a tone of satisfaction. 
 
 “ Mr. Hildebrand Hannyside,” said Marston. 
 
 Some one said : “ Oh, my dearest uncle,” from the door- 
 way. A fat and dumpy youth came hurriedly into the 
 room. He was round-eyed and white-faced, with fat and 
 puffy cheeks, and a soft, oily voice. An odour of white 
 rose diffused itself from his breast pocket ; his squat right 
 hand was adorned by a heavy gold signet ring. 
 
 “ My dearest uncle,” he said, lovingly. “ Oh — you, 
 
 Araminta,” the change of voice was painfully apparent. 
 
 “Yes, me — Araminta,” said Miss Mellicombe, snappily 
 for a lady of deep religious fervour. 
 
 Hildebrand wished to know how his dear uncle found 
 himself. He asked minutely sympathetic questions as to 
 symptoms, and in reply Reginald Hannyside grunted ill- 
 humouredly. 
 
 Sandy was introduced, and cordially welcomed to Norton 
 Priory. The importance of the heir-apparent lay heavily 
 upon Hildebrand. His uncle watched him with grim but 
 twinkling eyes. 
 
 “ Whisky-and-Perrier, sir, or Apollinaris ? ” said Marston, 
 appearing dutifully. 
 
 Hildebrand thanked Marston with some asperity. By 
 this time was he, Marston, not aware that he, Hildebrand, 
 did not imbibe alcoholic beverages. He took some 
 Apollinaris and sipped it languidly. Marston had brought 
 in a salver with a variety of drinks. 
 
 “ Chilly stuff,” said old Hannyside. “You wouldn’t be 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 i7 
 
 so pasty, boy, if you took your whack. Here, Saint 
 Araminta, you will have the cocktail appetizer, hey ? ” 
 
 Miss Mellicombe arose rigidly, spoke sorrowfully of a 
 small appetite, and took a cocktail from Marston, while 
 Mr. Hildebrand sat uneasily upon his chair, and glared 
 disapproval. 
 
 “ Mrs. Stanard wishes to know, sir ” — the butler directed 
 two footmen to take away the trays — “ if Miss Knox will 
 require the pink room to-night ? ” 
 
 For the first time Araminta and Hildebrand looked 
 at each other with some show of sympathy. Miss 
 Mellicombe muttered “the typist ” scornfully, and Mr. 
 Hildebrand sighed. 
 
 “Yes,” said Hannyside shortly. “Did not the motor 
 go to the train from London ? ” 
 
 With dismayed apologies Hildebrand regretted that he 
 had sent the motor to Northlap for some things he had 
 forgotten to bring. The car was not yet back. 
 
 The thunderous look with which uncle eyed nephew did 
 not speak of love. 
 
 A second car was being dispatched, when a small girl 
 walked in through the open French window. Mollie 
 Knox was pretty in an unassertive fashion. She had 
 sunny hair and grey eyes, and a sad little mouth. She 
 walked to her cousin and shook hands with him quietly. 
 Yet Reginald Hannyside’s face grew visibly brighter. 
 
 “ Moll,” he said, “ Moll, walking up from the station? ” 
 
 “ I borrowed the bicycle of the station masters wife,” 
 said Mollie placidly, “ and it sounds like a French exercise 
 put that way. No thank you, Marston. I will wait for 
 dinner. How d’ye do, Araminta ? How d’ye do, 
 Hildebrand ? ” 
 
 Araminta gave condescending greeting. In the majesty 
 of her handshake it was evident that she thanked God 
 that she, Araminta, was not a typist. Hildebrand was 
 remotely polite, with the faint resentment of the heir who 
 fears that a small legacy may be taken from him. 
 
 2 
 
i8 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Sandy sat silent, with a growing conviction that he had 
 never disliked two people more heartily than he disliked 
 Araminta and Hildebrand. 
 
 Araminta possessed the clipped drawl of the ultra- 
 refined ; Hildebrand murmured with the oily modesty of 
 the elect ; and open antipathy flashed from niece to 
 nephew whenever the two pairs of optics met. 
 
 Sandy sat and watched. He was the audience in the 
 stalls. Sometimes he saw old Hannyside grin as if some 
 hidden joke was pleasing him, and then grunt and mutter, 
 and sometimes he could see the flicker of pain beating 
 down the old Adam of humour — the pain which must 
 grow greater until it changed its name to death. 
 
 Araminta toyed with her long chain and played the 
 fine lady as she lounged and drawled. Hildebrand was 
 pained by any allusions to topical subjects ; he sat suddenly 
 upon The Daily Mail , because a tale of the Divorce Court 
 was on the exposed sheet ; he groaned over the awful 
 wreck of a monster liner. 
 
 “ To go down unregenerate — unsaved,” said Hildebrand 
 tragically. 
 
 Here his uncle remarked dryly that he presumed that 
 if Hildebrand were on a wreck he could happily eschew 
 life-belts with the upper decks awash, as he would no 
 doubt like to move on to be a saint. 
 
 Hildebrand looked pained, and faintly doubtful. He 
 said : “No; for he considered life a sacred charge — one to 
 be taken care of.” 
 
 “ To-morrow,” said Hannyside suddenly, “you shall see 
 my new horse, Hildebrand — the best horse in England.” 
 
 Hildebrand turned up the whites of his round eyes dole- 
 fully. He was understood to murmur that he wished there 
 were no racehorses. 
 
 “ Oh, how lovely ! ” said Mollie enthusiastically. 
 
 “ Do you a heap of good to back a winner,” Hannyside 
 grunted to his nephew. “Cheer you up. Very well, 
 Hall — I’m ready.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 i9 
 
 The sick man took some time to dress. He went 
 off early with his man, with Mollie Knox beside him, 
 her quiet little face set in real sorrow for the slow, painful 
 movements. 
 
 Sandy got up. The echo of the gong still vibrated 
 in the hall — a sonorous, ponderous gong. He thought 
 of the peevish bell which had never been replaced at 
 Droveen ; he smiled and sighed simultaneously — and of 
 Nora running in. . . . 
 
 “ Gracious, Sarah ! I’m late again.” 
 
 “ An’ Mrs. Magee sayin’ the beef is rags in the oven, 
 ma’m ; but she’s peevish, an’ she roastin’ always.” 
 
 Ireland was Ireland, even to the rich. 
 
 “ Mr. Acland Araminta unhinged herself from a 
 sitting position with a jerk. “ Mr. Acland — as an old 
 friend of my uncle’s- ” 
 
 Sandy looked in the glass and grunted. He declined to 
 feel old. 
 
 “As an old friend,” said Araminta, “could you not 
 persuade the dear old man to give up racehorses ? They 
 are a snare of the devil, Mr. Acland.” 
 
 “ A constant temptation to the weak,” said Hildebrand 
 heavily. “ I would not keep a racehorse — it cannot be 
 kept righteously.” 
 
 “ Fine sport owning racehorses,” said Sandy cheerily. 
 w Of course, if you feel you are too weak or too keen on 
 money to run straight, you are better without ’em. I had 
 a couple and did no damage to my conscience ; but if 
 you do feel like that, avoid ’em, my boy. I understand, 
 some fellows are weak.” 
 
 Hildebrand Hannyside staggered, he flung out his arms, 
 mentally winded by this blow upon his heart ; he subsided 
 heavily, not upon the chair he had risen from, but upon 
 the angular lap of Araminta, and thereby breaking her fine 
 chain into several fragments. 
 
 That Araminta was not quite devoid of humour was 
 marked by the fact that she jigged her stout cousin up and 
 
20 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 down on her powerful knee, and giggled : “ Oh, my good- 
 ness, Hildebrand, what a naughty mind you’ve got!” 
 through the giggle. 
 
 Sandy was at the door and softly whistling “ Lovfe’s 
 young dream ” when Hildebrand found his tottering feet, 
 and his voice. 
 
 “ Sir,” he began, “ Mr. Acland ! Wait ! Sir, do you 
 imagine that I, a member of Greater Bethel Congregation, 
 was thinking of keeping racehorses,” Hildebrand choked, 
 “ because, I thought I— would get——” 
 
 “ Cold soup,” said Sandy cheerily, “ it’s ten to eight. 
 Keep it all for dinner, my boy. English cooks have detest- 
 able habits of looking at clocks — and mind your cousin’s 
 chain.” 
 
 Sandy fled from the sound of an upraised, choking 
 voice. 
 
 “ Phillips,” he said solemnly, “ I should not like to live 
 in the house with young Mr. Hannyside. It would become 
 too cheap, Phillips, my lodging — afterwards.” 
 
 Phillips looked interrogation as he fastened a shirt cuff. 
 “I should live at His Majesty’s expense for justifiable 
 homicide,” said Sandy gloomily. “ I wish, 1 wish, that 
 the missus was here,” Phillips. 
 
 “ Yes, sir. Black or white pearl studs, sir ? ” 
 
 “ Black,” said Sandy emphatically. “ Phillips, how did 
 we come to be English, Phillips ? ” 
 
 “ leather and mother’s fault, sir,” said Phillips sympa- 
 thetically. “ No choice, sir. Yes, the gong, sir.” 
 
 Hildebrand Hannyside’s ruffled humour had not been 
 soothed by a flurried attiring of his plump person. In his 
 own home he did not dress for dinner. There was often 
 an evening meeting of his congregation, and discussions 
 upon subjects of the day. When various wrongs of earth 
 had been completely condemned by some twenty Greater 
 Bethelites, it was often a shock to see a report in next 
 day’s paper that the wrongs were going forward uninter- 
 rupted. Hildebrand also wrote letters to the papers on 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 21 
 
 subjects of enthralling interest, such as the appearance of 
 the first swallow, a strawberry blossom in blow in March ; 
 or the cruel wrongs endured by pedestrians when motorists 
 were unable to keep the dust down as they passed. Here 
 he was obliged to change, and the inexorable march of the 
 clock toward eight made him extremely irritable. He was 
 aware of a white tie which sagged and struggled from its 
 clumsy confinement, or a crumpled shirt front, and socks 
 too thick for his new pumps. 
 
 Phillips meeting the fat youth upon the stairs, coughed 
 softly as he went down to help to wait at dinner. 
 
 Miss Araminta Mellicombe was encased in a gorgeous 
 suit of sequins, which rattled and shimmered as she moved. 
 She wore some handsome rubies on her large neck, and 
 her dull hair was surmounted by a flight of diamond 
 butterflies. 
 
 Mr. Hannyside, looking at his niece and nephew, said 
 something softly which alluded to dances, for Hildebrand’s 
 coat had tails. 
 
 Mollie Knox, in something light and becoming, was 
 immersed in a feast of weekly papers. 
 
 Dinner was heavy, but excellent. With the ostentation 
 of the truly good, Hildebrand drew a carafe of water before 
 his plate, and set it there as a silent sermon to wine bibbers 
 about him. 
 
 Araminta drank champagne cheerfully. Mollie took a 
 light but precious hock. It was evident from the first that 
 Hildebrand’s injured feelings were only waiting to pour 
 forth in protest, and that he had a great deal to say. 
 
 “ With reference, Mr. Acland,” he began, peering across 
 a bank of flowers to look at Sandy, “ to the — er — misunder- 
 standing before dinner.” 
 
 “ My dear boy, as Miss Mellicombe didn’t mind,” said 
 Sandy, kindly, “ as she didn’t mind your sitting on her 
 knee.” 
 
 Here Mollie Knox laughed softly, and even Marston 
 smiled. 
 
22 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ I referred to racing, the — to racing,” spluttered Hilde- 
 brand, growing red at his uncle’s chuckle. 
 
 “ Racing,” said Sandy, taking some forced asparagus, 
 “ is an innocent and sporting amusement, debased by men 
 who have turned it into an equine stock exchange.” 
 
 “ Good gracious, Alex.! You never used to be witty,” 
 said Mr. Hannyside quickly. 
 
 “ I am not. It’s Nora, she said that.” Sandy spoke with 
 the pride of the man who believes there is only one woman 
 on earth, and that woman his wife. 
 
 “ I wonder, if I had ever known a Nora” — Reginald 
 Hannyside spoke almost under his breath — “ but my sister 
 and brother married — and — the results ” — he looked first 
 at Hildebrand, who was leaning across the table with his 
 mouth open, ready to speak, and at the gorgeous Araminta 
 sitting stiffly upright in her armour of sequins. 
 
 Hildebrand found a space to ihrust his sword of oratory. 
 He began to talk fluently. He denounced, not racing, for 
 he caught his uncle’s eye, but the temptations of the race- 
 courses. The few men who raced for sport alone — here he 
 bowed towards the head of the table — could not redeem the 
 masses who seethed and struggled and cheated and plotted. 
 
 “ And it all leads to drink,” champed Hildebrand. 
 “ Excitement, long hours, losses or gains, make thirst, 
 thirst, sir — thirst. Bookmakers hoarse from yelling, must 
 drink. They do not cool their throats with pure, sweet 
 water ” — Hildebrand took up the carafe proudly — “ they 
 must mix it with alcoholic stimulants.” 
 
 “ Thanks, Marston — no duckling as yet. I must listen,” 
 said Sandy to the butler. 
 
 “With inferior stimulants — making man at first merry, 
 then irritable, then a beast. I say that one cannot grow 
 excited or talk much without undue thirst — even now, after 
 
 my brief discourse he poured some of the contents 
 
 of the carafe into his tumbler and took a long drink, then, 
 with a spluttering yell, he shot to his feet. 
 
 “ I believe Bob has bitten him,” said Mr. Hannyside, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 23 
 
 without excess of grief. “What is it, Hildebrand? Slap 
 his back, Marston — hard — he’s choking.” 
 
 Marston obeyed with respectful zeal, Phillips rendering 
 aid with drops of cold water sprinkled briskly on the nape 
 of Hildebrand’s neck. 
 
 “It — was — whisky, ’hscreamed Hildebrand, “ in the jug.” 
 He sat down pale and exhausted. “ In the jug.” 
 
 “ Not at all — in the glass, sir,” said Phillips, gently. 
 “ Best Irish, sir — uncoloured. Knew you must take Irish 
 as you had the water ready, and selected it myself, sir, 
 on Marston’s recommendation. A liqueur whisky, sir.” 
 
 “ Phillips ! ” said Sandy helplessly, as he met his man’s 
 expressionless eyes. 
 
 “ Whisky — for me — I, who never even eat trifle,” groaned 
 Hildebrand. 
 
 He looked round at faces which could not keep serious. 
 Mollie Knox was laughing openly and unrestrainedly ; 
 Hannyside chuckled softly; Sandy grinned; Araminta 
 ejaculated, “ Oh, my goodness, Hildebrand ! ” through 
 metallic giggles ; Marston, purple of face — he had endured 
 many lectures as to his beer — shook visibly by the side- 
 board ; Phillips was alone grave ; woodenly unemotional, 
 he padded softly to the sideboard and returned with a 
 decanter. 
 
 “ Regretting the mistake, sir. Shall I change your glass 
 for brandy, sir ? ” he said solicitously. 
 
 “ Man — do you not know that I am a teetotaller ? ” 
 Hildebrand plucked a blue ribbon from his buttonhole, 
 and thrust it at Phillips. 
 
 Phillips laid it gravely upon the cut-glass stopper of the 
 brandy decanter. 
 
 “Thank you, sir — excuse me, sir. Naturally took it for 
 an order, sir,” he said. He carried the decanter carefully 
 to the sideboard, with the blue ribbon adorning its iniquitous 
 presence. 
 
 “ I have not,” said Hannyside, two minutes later, 
 “ laughed so much for a year.” 
 
24 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 X 
 
 Phillips and Marston had left the room. 
 
 “Is— is — it stupidity, Alex. ? ” he went on, turning to 
 gaze at the decanter. 
 
 “ I — fear — not,” said Mr. Acland dryly. 
 
 Miss Mellicombe bade the depressed Hildebrand cheer up. 
 
 “ It won’t count, as you didn’t know ; and it will do you 
 a heap of good,” she said maliciously. “You finished the 
 glassful, didn’t you?” 
 
 The plunging of the cousins into furious argument 
 concerning alcohol and religion left the other three free 
 to talk of less important matters. 
 
 What Sandy wondered as he looked across the table at 
 Mollie, was why Hannyside did not abandon the ties of 
 blood and leave his money to this pretty child. A typist 
 — the word made Sandy remember his first wife — the Irish 
 girl who had worked until she died in cruel, splendid 
 London. 
 
 “You do well at it?” he asked Mollie gently. 
 
 “ As well as one can do. I have a permanent place. 
 And Cousin Reginald gives me three holidays a year. 
 I love to see the horses here,” she answered brightly. 
 
 “You’d like to win a National, then?” Sandy asked, 
 smiling. 
 
 Miss Knox said she thought she would like to ride in 
 one. She knew all the old favourites by name ; she 
 watched for them in the papers. Sandy made a mental 
 resolve that, when his old friend passed into the unknown, 
 he would ask Mollie to Castleknock and give her a horse 
 to ride when she was there. 
 
 “You cannot call it real” — the raised voices of the 
 combatants made the two elder men turn to listen — 
 “ you drink champagne, wear jewels, deny yourself nothing.” 
 
 Araminta retorted hotly that the Reverend Arthur 
 Eustace was her guide, and she was content to abide by 
 his teaching. 
 
 Hildebrand’s quotation referred to ditches and two blind 
 people. He expressed, at some length, his absolute cer- 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 25 
 
 tainty that no person who did not belong to a religion 
 devoid of show, such as his, and who did not content 
 themselves with water to drink, and cold mutton for 
 supper on Sundays, with tea made over a spirit lamp, 
 could be on the right path. 
 
 “ But why mutton ? ” broke in Sandy suddenly. “ Now, 
 why mutton ? ” 
 
 “To save the maids trouble,” snapped Hildebrand. 
 “ How can a cook think of her future on the Sabbath 
 if she is plunged to the neck in entrees and sweets ? ” 
 
 Mollie hinted softly that one might be more likely to 
 think of soap and water. 
 
 “ But mutton ? ” repeated Sandy. “ Why not chicken, 
 or beef, or galantine ? Why mutton ? ” 
 
 Hildebrand coloured and sniffed. He said haughtily 
 that mutton was merely symbolical, and of a simple 
 nature. He glared at Araminta as she lighted her 
 cigarette. 
 
 “You’d be so much better if you smoked, Hildebrand,” 
 said his uncle sharply. “ It’s natural and manlike.” 
 
 Young Mr. Hannyside was understood to remark that 
 he reserved the money which he might have spent on 
 cigarettes for the benefit of the widows and orphans of 
 reformed men on the Caribbean Islands, where they sent 
 a mission. 
 
 His uncle, as he lighted a cigar, observed drily that 
 probably widows of reformed natives had become a drug 
 in the market now upon that island, and met his nephew’s 
 suspicious glance with a faint grin. 
 
 It was not a pleasant dinner. During dessert Araminta 
 and Hildebrand became friendly, as they combined to 
 lecture their uncle upon the evils of his racing stable. 
 
 “ Dreadful thing, racing,” he said, “ dreadful. You would 
 not either of you own a racehorse, hey ? ” 
 
 Araminta said that before she gave old copies to 
 the poor, she had even gummed together the pages of 
 weekly journals containing photographs of racehorses. 
 
f 
 
 26 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Hildebrand said the Greater Bethelites had a special weekly 
 prayer for those in peril on the turf. 
 
 Throughout the lecture Mr. Hannyside looked from one 
 to the other with the same curiously thoughtful look which 
 always fell on him as he studied nephew or niece. 
 
 “ The only way to get me out of it, is to win a National,” 
 he said dryly. “ When the colours come in front at 
 Aintree, I retire — so put in a special prayer for Red Fancy 
 next year, Hildebrand. You wouldn’t mind a few race- 
 horses, Mollie, hey ? ” 
 
 Mollie Knox said eagerly that she could do with any- 
 thing on four legs with a mane and a tail. “ If they 
 couldn’t race they could hunt,” she said a little wistfully. 
 
 “ You are never very likely to hunt,” said Araminta 
 coldly. 
 
 “ Who knows ? ” said Hannyside, “ the fairy prince may 
 wear a pink coat. Now get along, and you too, Hildebrand ; 
 go and sing hymns to your cousins. I have to talk business 
 here.” 
 
 “Look at ’em,” said Reginald Hannyside wrathfully. 
 “ Look at ’em. And to think I ate bread-and-milk with 
 their father and their mother. But May died when 
 Araminta was born ; she killed her ; so she was left to her 
 fooling father and an aunt ; and Tom, my brother, was in 
 the same boat.” 
 
 Sandy murmured sympathetically that apparently 
 Araminta ought to have been named Azrael. 
 
 Hannyside grunted, and grinned ; he also called Sandy 
 an idiot. “ Tom did not die for five years later, but he left 
 his wife free to marry a Tower of Bethel, and Hildebrand’s 
 the result of the upbringing. And yet — I suppose I ought 
 to leave ’em my money and my place — because they’re my 
 relations.” 
 
 “ If you divide the house between them, I fancy Marston 
 will give notice,” said Sandy thoughtfully. 
 
 Reginald Hannyside leant back in his chair and chuckled 
 deeply. “They’ll see — you’ll see,” he said. “They’re 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 27 
 
 counting me dead already. Hildebrand is yearning for the 
 hour when he can abolish those stables, and have a teetotal 
 butler to wait on him. Araminta dreams of the family 
 diamonds, and the Reverend Eustace for a spouse. I 
 promised ’em once I’d divide up. There’s little Moll, too, 
 to get something. Look here, Alexander, you’ll see it 
 through — promise — you’ll see my will through for me as 
 executor and trustee ? ” 
 
 Sandy promised quietly, with a tightness at his throat. 
 For, sitting in his fine old room, with everything which 
 money could buy before him, this old friend of his must 
 talk of death as something which must come to him, and 
 come soon. Now and again a spasm of pain would send 
 grey shadows across the pale face, as if the grim waiter 
 sent reminder. 
 
 The electric light glowed on fruit and flowers ; on old 
 cut glass and silver ; the man was vigorously alive, and 
 yet there was no respite. The fight for money bruises 
 and tears ; it is carried out in airless places ; it means con- 
 stant strain, constant worry. Is it good that we turn to go 
 at the last holding a sackful of sovereigns, if our limbs have 
 lost the power to lift them ; if our lungs cannot drink in 
 the pure air we have earned the power to rest in ? 
 
 God made His glorious world for man, and man made 
 towns and great buildings for himself. If he stifles in them 
 away from open spaces, from the murmur of clear waters, 
 from the cool, sweet air blowing across them, from rain 
 and sunshine, and wood and field, it is his own will and 
 his way. 
 
 Reginald Hannyside was very rich. Sandy might have 
 been the same if he had struggled on in his office, but as 
 he reflected sapiently, he would also have been dead, and 
 he sighed a sigh of longing for the scent of peat on a wet 
 west wind, with the grey sky, loosened, sailing rudderless 
 overhead. 
 
 “You were a fool to go away to vegetate, Alex./’ 
 Hannyside’s voice roused Sandy from his dreams. “You 
 
r 
 
 28 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 can’t have retired on anything really worth while — and you 
 got out of everything in a senseless way.” 
 
 Sandy said cheerfully that if he had stayed on he would 
 have got out of it all in the most everyday way in the 
 world. “ Feet foremost — to Woking,” said Sandy, recalling 
 his irritation years before when he had passed the garden 
 cemetery. 
 
 “ You’ve changed so much,” Hannyside went on. “ You 
 were the shrewdest of business men, and now you — you 
 talk of hammers and nails when oak is wanted, and you 
 don’t seem to know a bull from a bear.” 
 
 “ I know a horse from a donkey, though,” said Sandy. 
 “ One must breathe to live, Reggie. I nearly went out, but 
 dear old Grattan stopped me in time. Sent me off for a 
 rest cure which was nearly permanent, and then to Ireland, 
 where I found Nora, and stayed. 
 
 “ I should like,” went on Sandy, " to see Nora and Kath- 
 leen talking to Araminta. Nora, who only knows what 
 o’clock it is on a hunting morning, and often forgets that 
 she is asked out to dinner. She has also quite forgotten to 
 grow old,” said Sandy happily. 
 
 “ But you’re business man enough still to carry it all 
 through for me, Alex. I’ll get the will and send it to you. 
 It’s locked away in my house near Paris — or if it’s not 
 there, it’s in Scotland. It is so difficult to imagine oneself 
 dead, that I have made arrangements so as to pretend I am 
 alive. Now come and suggest Bridge. I fret if I think for 
 too long.” 
 
 As Sandy walked into the drawing-room, he wondered 
 whether the heir and the heiress would have quite as good 
 a time as they thought they would. There was some grim 
 joke in his old friend’s mind. 
 
 Araminta liked fresh air, and Hildebrand detested it— -so 
 one window was flung wide enough to set the heavy cur- 
 tains flapping, and one was carefully closed. Hildebrand 
 had retreated as far from the draught as he could without 
 going to bed. He was playing a patience with some skill, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 29 
 
 cheating freely when it would not come out. Mollie sat by 
 the fire, occasionally answering a condescending question 
 from her distant cousin. 
 
 To Sandy’s surprise, Hildebrand could play Bridge, but, 
 of course, not for money. Araminta, it appeared, was a 
 skilled player, but would not play for nothing. It ended 
 in the cousins having to play together, Sandy gambling 
 against Araminta at half a crown a hundred, and Reginald 
 Hannyside playing sardonically for love against his 
 nephew. 
 
 There was a great deal to think of besides the cards, 
 Sandy told Nora afterwards, for before the first game was 
 over Miss Mellicombe had reached a state of rigid fury at 
 good cards wasted, and Hildebrand oozed irritation moistly. 
 His desire to return comment as biting as he received, 
 upset his faint grip of the game. So that when Araminta, 
 playing the heart, doubled, and he led her a spade from 
 five to the jack, Sandy spent a patient two minutes picking 
 the cards from the floor, his polite inquiry as to whether 
 they should deal again or sort this lot out, being received 
 with chill rage from Araminta. A further deal having 
 been decided, Sandy was pleased to see he held a hundred 
 aces, and equally pleased to make a grand slam. He took 
 nineteen shillings, made up at the last by threepenny 
 pieces, which Araminta said peevishly she had been keep- 
 ing for collections ; and he went to bed. The cousins were 
 not then on speaking terms. 
 
 When Phillips brought him tea in the morning, Sandy 
 sighed, and tried to imagine that he was at Castleknock, 
 but the silence of the house was too intense. There was 
 no infuriated yapping from Nora’s terriers as they endea- 
 voured to deter the workmen from entering the yard. No 
 hails from Bridget the parlour-maid to Sarah the dairy- 
 maid requesting “ crame that minyit, or her head ’d be 
 whipped from her, for the missus’s bell was whirrin’ this 
 five minyits for tay, an’ the masther wouldn’t do without 
 crame in his.” 
 
30 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 
 Here there was the silence of the perfectly ordered 
 house, where heavy doors shut out sound, and the men out- 
 side work silently as they roll and mow and clip. 
 
 Phillips put down the tea ; it was cold and too strong. 
 He tweaked the heavy blinds up so that spring sunshine 
 poured in through the open window, but he was careful to 
 avoid the aggressive habit of the housemaids who swish 
 the blind back to its socket and dazzle half-open eyes with 
 a glare of light. 
 
 “ Nice horses down there, sir,” said Phillips cheerfully, 
 ‘‘specially Red Fancy, sir. Might make a bit next 
 National on him, sir.” 
 
 Mr. Acland remarked firmly that he preferred Pop-Gun. 
 
 “ Mr. Watson, sir, informs me Pop-Gun lacks speed, 
 sir. Was not astonished at your preference, the horse 
 being more hunter like than the other, sir. But Red 
 Fancy, sir, for my money. Delights legs gone, sir.” 
 
 Sandy eyed his valet thoughtfully. It was evident that 
 in the depths of Phillips’s mind his master was still the 
 London man who knew nothing, and he, Phillips, was the 
 superior judge of racers. 
 
 “ I do not think,” said Sandy, when he returned from his 
 bath, “ I do not think, Phillips, that we shall any of us see 
 Red Fancy run next year from this stable. Mr. Hannyside 
 is very ill, Phillips.” 
 
 “ He should have given up work as you did, sir,” said 
 Phillips gently. “ Saved you, sir. I do not think, sir ” — 
 Phillips sorted sleeve links carefully — “ that Mr. Hildebrand 
 Hannyside will do much in the racing line, sir. Dreadful 
 accident, sir, concerning whisky last night — most re- 
 gretful.” 
 
 “ Especially as you did it on purpose, Phillips,” observed 
 Mr. Acland grimly. 
 
 “Sir!” said Phillips, gravely outraged, but an unvalet- 
 like and unholy twinkle lit his eyes. “ Really, sir,” said 
 Phillips, turning away. 
 
 The only cheerful thing at breakfast was Mollie Knox, 
 

 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3i 
 
 and the blue riband on the decanter. Araminta’s obvious 
 peevishness followed her rush in a motor to early service 
 at Northlap. Prayers did not seem to have left her temper 
 smooth. Hildebrand was weighed down by the knowledge 
 that he could not attend his particular form of worship. 
 Hannyside was weary from a sleepless night. The cousins 
 snapped at each other over hot cakes and honey, Hilde- 
 brand discoursing on the wrong done to the cook as he 
 ate his fourth, her mind for the day would have been dis- 
 turbed, he declared, by baking. 
 
 Araminta said politely that all that nonsense was put 
 on, and if cooks were not there to cook what were they 
 there for, also that Hildebrand need not eat hot bread if 
 it offended his conscience. 
 
 “ We will go to the stables after breakfast,” said Hanny- 
 side. “ Hildebrand has no forks to play on. Araminta has 
 had the car out once, and Mollie can go to kirk at six if 
 she feels inclined.” 
 
 When Reginald Hannyside spoke in that tone, his heirs 
 grew meek and obeyed. Until a man is dead, he can 
 always alter that last weapon, his will. They quarrelled 
 with each other, and they remonstrated when they found 
 opportunity, but the old man could subdue them when 
 he chose. 
 
 Araminta murmured something about racing stables on 
 Sundays, and Hildebrand heaved a sigh which fluttered 
 the flame of the spirit lamp, but they did not disobey. 
 
 “ We will drive in the small car,” said Hannyside, “ and 
 Hildebrand shall walk, because he is a stone too heavy. 
 He can go on.” 
 
 The small car, which was a fourteen-twenty Wolseley 
 painted cerulean blue, buzzed to the door with Mr. Phillips 
 in the driving-seat, urbane and undisturbed. 
 
 “ Chauffeur suffering from slight vertigo, sir ; effect of 
 early rising without food,” Phillips explained. “ Drive 
 regularly at home, sir, so ventured to offer services, if not 
 inconvenient, sir.” 
 
32 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Now, as Sandy had driven for years, and Phillips was 
 quite unnecessary, he looked at his man with comprehensive 
 eyes, but he said nothing. Phillips did not wish to miss 
 a visit to the stables. 
 
 “ Phillips is an excellent driver/’ he said dryly ; “you can 
 trust him, Reggie.” 
 
 This visit to the stables was a thing to be remembered. 
 
 Araminta and Hildebrand looked bitterly at the horses ; 
 at the depths of expensive wheaten straw ; at the boys who 
 lounged about in their Sunday clothes ; at the trainer’s 
 pretty, creeper-covered house. 
 
 “ To think,” said Araminta, “of all which could be done 
 with the money spent here — of the stained windows and 
 vestments.” 
 
 “ Of the missions,” said Hildebrand. 
 
 “ Of the treats to respectable poor,” snapped Araminta. 
 
 “ Of ” 
 
 “ Oh ! you wouldn’t keep ’em five minutes,” grunted their 
 uncle angrily. “ No fear ! All the money in the world 
 wouldn’t make you, hey ? ” 
 
 His face was lighted up by the sudden cunning which 
 crosses the faces of the old. The malice of too much 
 knowledge and the foolish mischief of the very young 
 seem to meet and combine. “ Not even to please me, 
 hey ? ” he said, flashing his eyes on Red Fancy. 
 
 “ Oh, of course, if you wished it, dear uncle,” said 
 Araminta hastily, thinking that this was a case where 
 diplomacy might pay. 
 
 “You wouldn’t, hey?” the old man wheeled on 
 Hildebrand, who was staring moodily at Red Fancy’s 
 nose. 
 
 “ Racehorses,” said Hildebrand stiffly, “cannot be kept 
 by a person of really strict principles. No, uncle, I fear I 
 shall never carry on the stud.” 
 
 “Not even for money, hey?” chuckled his uncle. 
 “ Well, I must only win my race before I go.” 
 
 Hildebrand immediately expressed a fervent wish that 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 33 
 
 his uncle might win many things before the inevitable 
 happened, and that he must not think of the said in- 
 evitable, or talk of it as if it was near. 
 
 Sandy strolled away, to find Mollie feeding the old 
 favourites with carrots. 
 
 “ I wonder if they remember,’ ” she said half sadly, 
 “ when they were polished and galloped and trained, and 
 came out to strive and gallop. Now they only eat and 
 sleep, poor things.” 
 
 Sandy thought they were probably much happier. 
 “ They never have any youth,” he said ; “ they learn what 
 whips and spurs mean when their hunter cousins are 
 playing on the grass ; they are stabled and fed and forced, 
 and I think they must be glad to rest.” 
 
 “ If I ever have a little money,” Mollie said dreamily — 
 “ Cousin Reginald has told me I am to have some — I will 
 have a little place and two dear horses and several dogs, 
 and I shall hunt. I have seen the hounds near here in 
 winter, and the pink coats, and the people jumping and 
 galloping, and heard the hounds barking, and I must do 
 it some time.” 
 
 Sandy said thoughtfully that she could bark now, but he 
 didn’t think it would be satisfactory on a Sunday. 
 
 Mollie said good-humouredly that he was an owl ; but 
 she listened, wide-eyed, to tales of Irish hunting, until her 
 cheeks were pink from excitement. 
 
 “Til do it,” she said. “I’ll come to your country, 
 Mr. Acland, and you shall buy me Blackbirds; and I'll 
 like to take you.” She patted Bennevis’s nose. 
 
 “ It’s so ripping of Cousin Reggie,” Mollie added, “ to 
 keep the old friends.” 
 
 A voice behind her retorted it was absolutely idiotic. It 
 calculated the minimum cost of a horse’s yearly keep, and 
 remarked coldly that Christian minds must remember how 
 that money could be used. “ If they are too young to die, 
 there are four-wheeled cabs to be drawn,” said Hildebrand 
 callously. 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ I’d rather shoot an old favourite than sell him to a 
 cab/’ said Mollie hotly. 
 
 Young Mr. Hannyside replied that she did not appear 
 to calculate the loss of fifteen to twenty pounds, which 
 would be the result of the shooting. He looked viciously 
 at the boxes holding the cast racers — thought how swiftly 
 they should pass when he came to his reign here. 
 
 “ Nonsense — sentimental rubbish,” he said, with the 
 heavy conviction of the young man who has never had his 
 ideas widened out and the edges rubbed off. 
 
 Then Hildebrand thought the yard might conveniently 
 be let later on. He explained that he objected to waste. 
 
 “ A farmer would take it,” he said. 
 
 Watson, the trainer, wasted no blandishments upon 
 Hildebrand. He looked at the youth with a certain bitter 
 resignation, realizing that his post as trainer would end 
 when his present master died. Watson was superior, but 
 he wanted to win a National ; he sighed now, and talked 
 to Phillips. 
 
 “ An’ she would no doubt be just as bad a hegg,” 
 said Mr. Phillips, in sympathetic response to a remark 
 of Watson’s. 
 
 “She’d be wuss,” said Watson briefly. 
 
 Faintly brightened by bickerings between Araminta 
 and Hildebrand, Sunday dragged to a close. Hildebrand 
 looked nervous when Araminta admired a piece of furni- 
 ture ; Araminta got crimson when he talked about 
 diamonds going with the name. 
 
 They were down there, merely waiting for what they 
 could get, and their uncle was completely aware of their 
 view of the case. His half-childish, half-malignant chuckle 
 often came to his lips when he looked at the two. 
 
 Sandy was leaving for Ireland next night. He said he 
 could not stay away because there were two young horses 
 to take in. But before he left, the surprise of the day was 
 the arrival of the Rev. Arthur Eustace to luncheon. 
 
 Mr. Hannyside explained his urgent wire on the plea of 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 35 
 
 the wish to give ; but he fluttered a faint wink towards 
 Sandy as he made the explanation. 
 
 The clergyman was a thin young man, deeply in earnest, 
 and obsessed by love of his work. He blushed sometimes 
 when Araminta looked at him lovingly, and though it was 
 completely evident that he did not return her love — that 
 she would eventually marry him was extremely probable, 
 for Araminta was a lady of firm will. 
 
 “ But — that is all right,” said Hannyside, when a motor 
 had carried off the Rev. Eustace to the station. “ I wanted 
 to see if he would suffer — before ” — he chuckled maliciously 
 — “before I was quite certain, Alex. He’s a good soul, 
 the parson. Come in here,” he said ; “ you’ve half an hour 
 yet, and there are certain things to be said.” 
 
 Hannyside put a thick, sealed letter into Sandy’s hands. 
 “ To be opened by you when one Grand National has 
 passed after my death,” he said. “ See, Alexander ? Put 
 
 it away at your lawyer’s ” 
 
 Araminta and Hildebrand said good-bye to Sandy with 
 complete lack of regret. They stood upon the steps — 
 heir and heiress — each bitterly resenting the other’s 
 existence ; each absolutely certain of a large legacy. 
 Both already counting on future reforms. 
 
 “ And I wonder,” said Sandy to himself, “ if there is 
 something in that will which will surprise you both.” 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 And bleat the one at the other. 
 
 Winter's Tale . 
 
 R. HANNYSIDE died last night. One of his 
 
 last requests was that you should be wired for at 
 once. Allenbury. Northlap.” 
 
 “There, now!” said Sandy Acland mournfully. “Poor 
 old Reggie ! And I must go to-night.” 
 
 Nora Acland, a slim woman, who ought to have looked 
 middle-aged and didn’t, put down a fishing rod in dismay. 
 
 “Good gracious! with the green drake just on Loch 
 Corro,” she said. “ And we are showing three horses next 
 week. But you must be back for that, Sandy. Michael 
 says you might ride Maybird if you liked.” 
 
 Sandy remarked dryly that he appreciated Michael’s 
 kindness ; he rang the bell peevishly. 
 
 “ Send Phillips here,” he said to Delia. 
 
 Delia looked dubiously at the early June sunshine. She 
 said she thought that she had “seen Mr. Phillips makin’ 
 down for the lake with a rod, but she wasn’t rightly sure.” 
 
 “ Make after him then,” commanded Sandy with un- 
 wonted heat. “ Make after him. He has to pack my 
 things. Phillips ! ” 
 
 “ God bless an’ save us,” was Delia’s audible remark out- 
 side the door. “ Make after him, an’ he in the wather be 
 now, takin’ his aise. Phill — ips ! ” shrieked Delia shrilly. 
 
 “ Mickey, can ye lay ye’re hand on Phillips — the masther 
 wants him in a hurry.” 
 
 “Did you call, sir?” Phillips appeared suddenly at the 
 window. 
 
 36 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 37 
 
 “ I did not — I yelled, 1 ” said Sandy. “ They told me you 
 had gone fishing, Phillips. Pack ! We’ve got to go back 
 to Northlap Priory.” 
 
 “ Mr. Hannyside being, so to speak, dead, sir,” suggested 
 Phillips, with respectful sympathy, and a look at the 
 telegram. “ I, in fact, met Mickey Beate on the avenue, 
 sir, and he appeared to have some garbled version of bad 
 news, so I came back, sir. Cruelly bad luck, sir — dread- 
 fully distressing.” 
 
 Sandy looked at his man, and credited him with more 
 good feeling than he had quite realized. 
 
 “ And Red Fancy, such a likely ’oss, sir,” said Phillips 
 mournfully. “ Had already made a combination of several 
 doubles, sir.” 
 
 “ Phillips,” said Nora briskly, “ you are ” 
 
 “ I will see to the packing, sir,” said Phillips, getting to 
 the door. “ And I rather fear there may be trouble over 
 there.” 
 
 Sandy had gone out dolefully to talk to the dogs, and 
 stroke the nose of his pet hunter, which grazed outside the 
 iron palings. 
 
 “ How’s that ? ” Nora put away fishing tackle regretfully. 
 
 “ Old Mr. Hannyside, ma’am, not quite ” Phillips 
 
 tapped his own sleek hair. “ Very old, madam. His man, 
 in fact, told me that Mr. Hannyside disliked Miss Melli- 
 combe and Mr. Hannyside, junior ; might leave somethin’ 
 queer in his will, ma’am. In fact, it appears he took a peep 
 when he was witnessing. Trust there will be no prolonged 
 absence from home, ma’am.” 
 
 “ Nora,” Sandy ran back. “ Hannyside didn’t die in 
 Paris, as he died in England.” 
 
 Nora said this appeared probable. 
 
 “ He was going for the will,” said Sandy excitedly. 
 
 “ He wrote and told me so. If — if — there is any bother 
 which keeps me over there away from the hay and the 
 horses and the fish, I — I — shall be extremely annoyed, 
 Nora. I’ll never take on trusteeships again.” 
 
38 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ I have my fears, sir,” said Phillips gravely. 
 
 “ Phillips — go to blazes/’ exploded Acland, with the usual 
 gratitude of a man when he is agreed with and does not 
 want to be. 
 
 “Certainly, sir — just a suit-case, I suppose, sir,” said 
 Phillips, going out. 
 
 “He might have waited until July,” said Sandy dole- 
 fully. “You’ll drive me in, Nora. And Alex. 
 
 “If you take Alex, you may rope him,” said Mrs. Acland, 
 callously. “ He climbed out over the back of the car the 
 last day to see if the exhaust pipe was tired, and I drove 
 into a donkey cart, when Maria began to scream. For- 
 tunately, it was Mrs. Ryan’s cart, and she said she had 
 wanted a new one for some time, and that the ass was a 
 blessed riddance. No, Sandy, if you want your son, you 
 may tie him in.” 
 
 “ Nora ! Are you ready,” cried a voice outside. “ We’ve 
 got heaps of luncheon — but we forgot to put in any butter, 
 or milk, and you’d better bring the cups. I think by the 
 sound, ours are broken already.” 
 
 “ It would be easy for them the way you put them in,” 
 said Standish Blundell’s gloomy voice. 
 
 Kathleen levers laughed the laugh of the completely 
 happy woman. Having banished her stately mother-in-law 
 to Dublin, she was without a care on earth. Standish 
 Blundell sat at the back of the car, indifferently packed in 
 among fishing rods and baskets. 
 
 Standish was big and dark and taciturn ; a man who 
 seldom smiled, and whose deep voice rang with a melan- 
 choly which its owner never intended to put there. 
 
 “ Sandy is going to a funeral — instead of fishing,” said 
 Nora, appearing, wrapped in gloom, at the door. “And 
 Phillips is going with him, and I have to drive him there — 
 so ” 
 
 “ Good gracious, Nora ! Whose funeral are you driving 
 the car to ? ” said Mrs. levers, amazed. “ And there isn’t any 
 one dead either — no one alive died this week, did they? ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 39 
 
 Her husband remarked mildly that he was quite sure no 
 one had died — alive or no. 
 
 “ Well, he’s dead, anyhow,” said Nora. “That old 
 Hannyside man, who was a friend of Sandy’s long ago. 
 And Sandy’s executor or something, and there are two 
 tiresome people he hates over there, and probably he thinks 
 he may have to take some of the old racehorses — and I’ll 
 fish to-morrow instead, Kathleen.” 
 
 Kathleen got out of the car and kissed her sister affec- 
 tionately. She then sat down disconsolately upon the 
 stone steps, remarking that she had brought far too many 
 jam tarts. 
 
 “ They are the kind Sandy likes,” said Kathleen levers 
 dolefully; “cherry jam and sweet short crust — so bad 
 for him.” 
 
 Standish Blundell looked at the clock upon the motor- 
 car. He remarked slowly that as Sandy had to go, why, 
 he’d better go, but their waiting would stop it, and it was 
 twenty miles to the lake. 
 
 “It’s that old racing fellow, isn’t it?” said Standish, 
 getting into the car again. “ Kathleen, how many shares 
 have you got in the china shop at Cahervalley ? ” 
 
 “ None,” said Kathleen stiffly. 
 
 Standish observed gloomily it was only the rattle when 
 he hit the tea-basket which made him ask. 
 
 “ It’s that racing fellow, isn’t it?” said Standish again. 
 “ Here, don’t start her, Neil. Wait ! Hi, there ! Sandy ! ” 
 
 Sandy thrust his sunburnt face out of an upper window. 
 Phillips appeared spasmodically near another— packing 
 rapidly, and evidently asking questions. 
 
 “Go away, Standish,” he said, “I’ve no time. Yes, 
 the tail coat, Phillips, not the frock, and for God’s sake 
 don’t forget my top hat. What is it, Standish? If I’ve 
 only a hunting one, Phillips, I must take a hunting one. 
 I will not stop on the way to buy another — most extrava- 
 gant. Well, Standish ? I cannot help the dinge the last 
 day I fell, Phillips — brush it well ” 
 
40 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ That was the day it saved your life, when the mare 
 put you over her head at the big wall,” said Standish. 
 “ God help us, Sandy, if you wouldn't jig in and out of the 
 window like a blind in a draught I could say what I wanted 
 to and get on. There’ll be a sale of the horses over there, 
 won’t there ? ” 
 
 “ There is sure to be,” said Sandy. “ I tell you, Phillips, 
 I will not buy another. Oh, go on, Standish, I can’t 
 help the dinge. They may say I’ve hunted in the hat if 
 they like ! Phillips ! ” 
 
 Phillips’s imperturbable face appeared at the next window ; 
 he held the top hat in his hand for Standish to see. Mr. 
 Blundell, looking up, remarked gravely that the hat looked 
 more like going to its own funeral than any one else’s, but 
 he supposed Sandy knew best. 
 
 “ Phillips,” said Sandy furiously, poking farther out, “put 
 that hat into the case. Go on, Standish ! ” 
 
 “ As I was saying,” remarked Standish sadly, “ about 
 that sale of horses. If they throw away any odd thorough- 
 bred racers over there, mares, I’ll take a couple. Don’t 
 forget, Sandy. Tell the auctioneer to give you a short 
 knock. D’ye hear ? San-dy ! ” 
 
 For Sandy had withdrawn with a snort and a grin. 
 
 It was exceedingly careless of Phillips at this point to 
 drop the hat ; and doubly unfortunate that it should have 
 impaled itself upon Standish’s gaff, which he was holding 
 in his hand, the dinge being now further augmented by a 
 cut in the crown. 
 
 Phillips came rushing down to its rescue, apologising 
 deeply. 
 
 “ Dreadfully careless of me, sir — dreadfully ; but not a 
 proper hat for England, sir,” said Phillips gravely. “ Must 
 break it to Mr. Acland, sir — latest accident to hat, sir.” 
 
 “ He aimed it fair for the gaff,” said Standish dolefully, 
 as the car slipped off. 
 
 It took Sandy Acland so many minutes at the post 
 office to compress his telegram down to sixpenny length 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 4i 
 
 that he had to open the throttle to catch the mail train. 
 It left him no time to buy the new hat, which was now 
 quite necessary, and he reached his carriage with a sense 
 of breathless haste which made him irritable. His last 
 . glimpse of his wife’s pretty face was too fleeting, and at 
 least half a dozen injunctions were forgotten. 
 
 Leaving Ireland always made Sandy melancholy. The 
 run through the brown bog of Allen reminded him of his 
 illness and his weak heart. Even now, travelling in a 
 train set it thumping. 
 
 There was a passably rough crossing, with enough roll 
 to make dubious sailors exceedingly green, and Sandy had 
 reached the humour which objects to everything when he 
 got into the train at Holyhead. He considered a sleeper 
 extravagant, but Phillips tipped a guard to reserve a 
 carriage, and put the tip down to various other items which 
 he had not wasted money on. Phillips was careful of his 
 master’s health. 
 
 It was eleven on a cold, bright May morning, when they 
 drove up to Northlap Priory. Early summer had been 
 using a powder-puff lavishly. The park was splashed with 
 blooming whitethorn. Near the house rhododendrons 
 blazed crimson and pink and white. It was trim and well 
 kept, but the sad chill which death brings lay on the house 
 which Sandy had left in its normal state. Blinds veiled 
 the windows ; a group of strange men, fresh from some 
 grim task of preparation for the morrow’s funeral, were 
 coming down the steps. 
 
 “ When you’re ready, then, Mr. Marston — it will be here 
 in an hour. We’ll wait.” 
 
 “It ’’was, without doubt, the last resting-place devised 
 for our bodies ; the casket of oak, or elm, decorated and 
 padded for the clay which appreciates attention no more. 
 
 Marston, his face set in the deep gloom which he con- 
 sidered suitable, let Sandy in. A dim twilight held the 
 house, accompanied by the flutter and swish of let-down 
 blinds. 
 
42 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ Very pleased you have arrived, sir — melancholy occa- 
 sion — poor Mr. Hannyside spoke of you at the last — the 
 very last, sir.” 
 
 Sandy shivered ; he was depressed and tired. 
 
 “ Early lunch, sir — or merely whisky-and-Perrier ? ” 
 asked Marston solemnly. “ Mr. Allenbury is awaiting 
 you, sir.” 
 
 “ Tea,” said Phillips. “ Same rooms, Mr. Marston ? 
 Tea is what Mr. Acland likes. I will take it up to him. 
 Tea after his bath. No, sir. Bath, and tea first, sir. Mr. 
 Allenbury afterwards, sir.” 
 
 There was a whispered colloquy in the hall ; an inter- 
 change of murmurs between the men. 
 
 “ Being at the back of the house,” said Phillips, “ couldn’t 
 hurt to have a blind up. Asked for change of rooms, sir — 
 melancholy things, shut blinds, sir.” 
 
 When Phillips had regaled himself upon hot cocoa and 
 cold beef in the servants’ hall, he ministered to his tired 
 master with tea and toast. 
 
 Sandy then came down to see the lawyer. He met upon 
 the stairs Miss Mellicombe, draped in deepest black, and 
 evidently nervously excited as to her heritage. 
 
 “ Oh, Mr. Acland, there you are. You’ll read the will in 
 the morning, won’t you ? Don’t think this cigarette heart- 
 less, my nerves are so upset. I’ve got a girl friend down 
 to sleep in my room. I’m going to put a new window in 
 St. Margareta’s, Mr. Acland — gratitude, you know.” 
 
 Miss Mellicombe had collected quite a large quantity of 
 jet upon her mourning garb, which rattled and clicked as 
 she moved. She was heavily scented with stephanotis, 
 which she had wired for as the only thing she thought 
 suitable, and she was faintly anxious about the diamonds. 
 Hildebrand was to have the house, but, division had been 
 promised, and there was a great deal to divide. 
 
 “ I trust poor uncle has not been foolish about servants’ 
 legacies, Mr. Acland. They can always do for themselves ; 
 and it fritters so much good money. I’m just going to see 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 43 
 
 cook about the funeral lunch ; chickens are so dear — people 
 must do with cold beef and ham, and pies.” 
 
 Sandy had said nothing then. Near them, close to the 
 head of the stairs, was a closed door, and Sandy thought 
 of his old friend, who lay in the room behind it. This girl 
 gave no thought to him now, only to what he had left 
 behind him. 
 
 “ I hope you’ll find the will to your liking,” said Sandy, 
 gravely, as he went on. But he did not, in the least. 
 
 A thin, grey-haired man with a humorous mouth and a 
 jumpy manner, waited for Sandy in the library. This was 
 the family solicitor. He commented on the melancholy 
 occasion ; trusted Mr. Acland was not tired ; very long 
 journey ; but all this clearly without any interest ; and 
 then, very jerkily and earnestly : 
 
 “Have you got it? Mr. Acland, I’m really anxious. 
 It’s not anywhere here.” 
 
 “ Got what ? ” said Sandy blankly. 
 
 “He didn’t give it you when you were here?” jerked 
 the lawyer. 
 
 “ Good gracious ! His disease was not catching/’ snapped 
 Sandy irritably. “ No, I have not got it.” 
 
 “ The will, sir ; I mean the will, Mr. Acland,” cried 
 Allenbury. “ Not the— er — complaint.” 
 
 Sandy shook his head and sat down. 
 
 “ He said it was in Paris put away in a secret drawer, or 
 in Scotland. He was subject to lapses of memory, Mr. 
 Acland. He used to hide things and forget them. The 
 end came suddenly, just, in fact, as he was packed up and 
 ready for Paris, that is not — er — for Paradise.” There was 
 here an evident desire on Mr. Allenbury’s part to smile at 
 his own play on words, a desire curbed sharply. “ Then 
 came a fainting fit and no rally. 4 In Paris,’ he said to 
 me, 'after I’ve gone,’ Mr. Acland, 'or Scotland — Acland 
 must look with you. And the letter,’ he said, ' letter give 
 to Acland.’ Then he lost consciousness and did not speak 
 again.” 
 
44 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Sandy, who was beginning to suffer from bewilderment, 
 said he had got that, but described what it was and when 
 it was to be opened. 
 
 “ Then even that is U P,” said Allenbury sadly. “ You 
 see, I drew up the will ; it ought to be found at once . It’s 
 important for the stable, Mr. Acland.” 
 
 Sandy looked up shrewdly. “ For the stable? ” he said. 
 “ Then there are some clauses.” 
 
 “ There are indeed a great many clauses,” said Allenbury. 
 “ Good gracious ! it’s most important, even to me. There’s 
 a letter for you, Mr. Acland. He wrote it three days ago.” 
 Sandy, opening it with a catch in his throat, read it with 
 some dismay, for it called on him solemnly as friend and 
 trustee, to go with Horace Allenbury to look for the mis- 
 laid will and not to abandon the search until it was found, 
 “if I do not get it myself before the end,” Hannyside 
 wrote. “ There’s some fun in it, Alex.” Sandy thought he 
 could almost hear the old man’s dry chuckle. “ And if it 
 wasn’t found everything would be upset, and Red Fancy 
 go to strangers. I must have the colours first some day — 
 you’ll see them.” 
 
 “But — but,” Sandy’s face grew bleakly blank. It would 
 mean staying away from Ireland— from Nora. “And the 
 green drake,” said Sandy bitterly, “ will be gone.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury sympathised deeply, but so far as fowl 
 went — duck fowls — there were a particularly fine breed of 
 Aylesburys which, if they were not green, might suffice ; 
 several couples could be sent over. 
 
 “ Man, the green drake is on Loch Corro,” said Sandy, 
 staring at the letter. “Millions of him. He will, I say, 
 be gone.” 
 
 Mr. Hildebrand Hannyside, in a mixed collection of 
 suits, walked into the room. He wore a tail coat, allied to 
 dark grey flannel trousers ; a black evening tie, and a 
 purple knitted waistcoat. He also carried with him the 
 important manner of the new king, and he shook hands 
 mournfully. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 45 
 
 “ As you've brought the will,” he began, “ most eccentric of 
 my uncle entrusting it to you — as you’ve brought it ” 
 
 “ But I have not,” said Sandy coldly. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury said softly he feared that he and Mr. 
 Acland must set forth to look for the will, and set forth on 
 the morrow. 
 
 Hildebrand blew out his puffy cheeks, until reminder of 
 the old game of “ Butter and eggs to market ” was produced. 
 He looked crossly at the lawyer, and crossly at Sandy, and 
 uncertainly at the room. He wanted certainty. 
 
 “ It will no doubt be found at once,” he said after a 
 pause. “In the meantime, Allenbury, you could see to 
 advertising those animals of Belial, for I will not,” said 
 young Mr. Hannyside sonorously, “ be associated with the 
 turf.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury replied hastily, but firmly. No selling 
 or advertising must be dreamt of until the will was found. 
 
 “ I am under promise not to reveal its contents,” said the 
 lawyer, “ but there must be no selling of the stud.” 
 
 Hildebrand’s plump cheeks took the tinge of imperial 
 purple. If he wished the advertisement to be put in, 
 it should be put in. Horses he would not have. 
 
 “Your uncle,” said Sandy quietly, “may have left 
 specified directions as to his favourites. We shall find 
 this will in a few days.” 
 
 As the argument reached this point, Araminta marched 
 into the library, and stood black and jingling. The 
 annoying state of affairs was broken to her by her stout 
 first cousin, who eyed her suspiciously as he talked. The 
 absence of a will would make Araminta share equally 
 with him. Araminta was always poking at the writing- 
 tables. 
 
 “ It’s felony to suppress it,” said Hildebrand gloomily. 
 
 “ Felony, Araminta — remember that.” 
 
 Araminta, jingling her jet, glared at him curiously. 
 
 “ Some people might have read of legacies they didn’t 
 like,” she said heavily, as she sat down. 
 
4 6 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ Mr. Phillips, who had brought in some telegrams, bent 
 to whisper to his master. 
 
 “ Each of the heirs thinks as how the other stole it, sir,” 
 said Phillips softly. His hour in the house had sufficed to 
 give him all particulars as to its difficulties. 
 
 “ Phillips,” said Sandy sharply. “ Give me my telegrams, 
 Phillips.” 
 
 “ Certainly, sir,” said Phillips. “ But principally for 
 Hannyside, sir.” 
 
 ‘‘The first thing to do,” said Araminta, “is to search 
 here. And I shall superintend it, Mr. Allenbury. My 
 uncles keys are on the table.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury replied testily that the keys, before 
 coming to rest upon the table, had been in every lock 
 they fitted in the room. “ The will is not here,” said 
 Allenbury. “ It’s not in this room.” 
 
 “ Nevertheless, we shall search,” Hildebrand agreed with 
 his cousin, and they had to be obeyed. 
 
 So, for a dusty, weary hour, drawers were opened ; files 
 of papers gone through, safes ransacked, bureaux tapped 
 for secret receptacles. Araminta took sundry dives into 
 the furniture, probing down into the sides of the leather- 
 covered chairs. Hildebrand commenced the task of lifting 
 out the books, and abandoned it languidly. 
 
 “ Satisfied,” said Mr. Allenbury, “ it is not here ? 
 Goodness! My lamented client having said Paris — or 
 Scotland — why not Paris or Scotland ? ” 
 
 “Miss Knox has arrived,” said Marston solemnly. “She 
 is in the drawing-room.” 
 
 Araminta, removing a large streak of dust from the 
 back of her hand by impounding it on her nose, wished 
 to know why Mollie Knox should thus thrust herself 
 forward. 
 
 “Wired for by me, as a legatee,” said Allenbury; and 
 again had too apparent difficulty in repressing a smile, 
 this time at his rhyme. 
 
 Araminta, when all search was abandoned, stalked 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 47 
 
 irritably about the room. She directed that Miss Knox 
 should have a room on the upper story at the back, and 
 she ordered the hastening of lunch. 
 
 Here Hildebrand, storming to the door, said that he 
 had ordered lunch at two, as the hour which he preferred 
 a mid-day meal, and looked at Marston with authority. 
 Marston went out quickly. 
 
 “ At one,” said Araminta. 
 
 “ At two,” boomed Hildebrand. “ And cold supper at 
 eight. No one can wish for dinner in this house of 
 mourning. At two,” said Hildebrand, capturing Phillips, 
 who was crossing the dim old hall. “ Tell the cook 
 from me.” 
 
 Phillips said “ Certainly, sir,” in his most urbane manner, 
 and went on upstairs. He returned swiftly, encountering 
 the dusty party as they stood in the hall, waiting for a last 
 safe to be locked up. Allenbury had forgotten the word 
 on the letter lock, and was twisting the letters gloomily. 
 Hildebrand and Araminta would not leave him until 
 everything was secure. 
 
 “ Its ‘Folly/ sir,” said Phillips politely. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury jerked up an outraged and dust-grimed 
 face, to gaze wrathfully in the direction of the voice. 
 Hildebrand remarked, in what he may have intended 
 to be a whisper, that Mr. Acland ought really to get rid 
 of his man. 
 
 “Just ‘Folly/ sir — the word, that is, sir,” said Phillips 
 politely. “ Saw Mr. Hannyside doing it when I was here 
 last, sir.” 
 
 The solicitor, his temper worn thin from over-much 
 searching, gulped down something, smiled jerkily, and 
 swung the letters obediently, the lock clicking to. 
 
 “ It was always Folly,” he said thoughtfully. 
 
 Phillips vanished, bearing irate messages, through the 
 swing door leading to the kitchen regions, to return almost 
 immediately. 
 
 “ The cook directs me, sir and madam, to say that 
 
48 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 luncheon will be ready at one-thirty,” he said to the irate 
 cousins, and again vanished. 
 
 “ The cook,” said Araminta, “ shall leave in a month ! ” 
 
 “That, I fancy, is for me to decide,” snorted Hildebrand. 
 
 Sandy sighed audibly ; having taken no part in the 
 search, he was at least clean. He went quietly up the 
 shallow stairs and down to his old friend’s room. Here, 
 still in his last sleep, cold, a smile on the white lips, 
 lay the dead master of the house — a man who had slaved 
 his life away to amass wealth, and was leaving it all 
 to two people who did not waste one thought of regret 
 upon him. 
 
 “If he could only tell us,” said Sandy sadly. “ Never 
 mind, Reggie. I’m sorry, and I’ll do my best for you, 
 old man.” 
 
 A shaft of sunlight quivered through the thick blinds, 
 falling on the quiet form. The one thing he craved for, 
 to see his horse win a National, had been denied him. He 
 had spun his web until it was thick with golden flies, and 
 what did it avail him now. 
 
 “ He might be fit to ride a hunt still, if he’d only given 
 it up in time.” Sandy turned away sadly, to go, when the 
 door opened. 
 
 Some one, weeping audibly, stole into'the room. 
 
 “ He was my only friend,” whispered little Mollie Knox. 
 
 “ And, oh, Mr. Acland, no one is sorry.” 
 
 “We are,” said Sandy gently, taking her away. 
 
 He was vexed by a sudden thought. If the finding of 
 the will w r as delayed, Mollie Knox might suffer. 
 
 “ He allowed you something, didn’t he ? ” 
 
 “ As much as I would take,” she said, “ every week. 
 He said he would leave me out of reach of poverty. I 
 could not live on what I earn, Mr. Acland.” 
 
 Marston boomed the gong softly. They came to the 
 luncheon, partaken of in semi-darkness, and highly seasoned 
 by Araminta and Hildebrand, as they carped at each other 
 across the table. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 49 
 
 Hildebrand, having taken the head of the table, Araminta 
 insisted on the foot, where she sat, removed by a wide 
 expanse from every one. 
 
 During the dreary afternoon, various relatives began 
 to arrive from the station, filling the house with the 
 pad of soft footsteps, and the echo of decorously lowered 
 voices. 
 
 Towards tea-time the subject of the lost will was in full 
 discussion, every one who hoped for a legacy having a 
 theory to advance. Fresh searches were instituted, in all 
 kinds of impossible places. Colonel Phillips, who had 
 hoped to be left one of the brood mares, turned out a 
 cabinet in the drawing-room ; his accident with a Stafford- 
 shire figure causing a serious breach between him and 
 Mr. Hannyside Garlande, who had been promised some 
 of the china. 
 
 Hildebrand wore the importance of the host upon his 
 fat face, and Araminta played hostess almost aggressively. 
 
 “We could,” said Allenbury, retreating to the library 
 with Sandy — “ we could start to-morrow afternoon, and 
 catch the boat train to-morrow night. It must be in the 
 Villa Regny.” 
 
 Sandy sighed drearily. He sat down to write telegrams, 
 counting the words carefully. He must let Nora know 
 at once. 
 
 Allenbury went out to get the evening post, and a 
 faint peace was upon Sandy, when the lawyer returned 
 at a jerky trot, bursting with news of an unpleasant 
 nature. 
 
 “ She — er — they,” gasped Allenbury, flopping into a 
 chair. “ Here’s a nice to-do ! ” 
 
 “They — who — what? Thirteen, fourteen— I can’t keep 
 it to twelve,” said Sandy irritably. 
 
 “ They — Miss Mellicombe — Hildebrand — they’re coming 
 too!' 
 
 “ They're what?” said Sandy, who had rung the bell. 
 
 “ What ? Send my man here,” he said to the footman. 
 
 4 
 
5 ° 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Mr. Allenbury related, in gasps, how he had met the 
 cousins in the hall. How Araminta had told him firmly, 
 and with some insolence, that when he went to Paris, she 
 was coming too ; she would see that will when it was 
 found. How Hildebrand had immediately broken in with 
 the remark that if Araminta went, he went, because one 
 never knew how things might be pulled about, and that 
 he wished the Scotch Lodge to be searched first. 
 
 “They won’t let each other out of their sight. They 
 believe — that — I — I — might not play fair,” jerked Allen- 
 bury almost hysterically. “ I am insulted — my professional 
 prestige ” 
 
 “A little brandy and Apollinaris, sir,” said Phillips, at 
 his elbow ; “ very good for strained nerves, sir.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury swore ungratefully, but did not argue 
 the point. 
 
 “ They are both coming,” he said. “ Wherever we go. 
 Bother ! They will fight all the time, and when they 
 
 know Thank you, Phillips — his name is Phillips, is 
 
 it not?” 
 
 Sandy Acland gripped the arms of his chair tightly, 
 muttering : “ Araminta — Hildebrand. Hildebrand — Ara- 
 minta.” 
 
 “ Phillips ! ” he shot out. “ Phillips ! ” 
 
 Phillips said “ Yes, sir,” a little anxiously. Sandy’s lips 
 were growing blue. 
 
 “ Send these wires, Phillips,” said Sandy. 
 
 Mr. Phillips coughed. 
 
 “ If Mrs. Acland could come across, sir,” he began. 
 
 The light of an undreamed of joy illumined Sandy’s 
 face. Pie tore the forms across. 
 
 “She shall come,” he said. “She shall. If I am to 
 have Araminta and Hildebrand, I will have som,e one to 
 protect me. Here, take these instead, Phillips — quickly ! 
 Send the boy with them — it’s only four o’clock now.” 
 
 Phillips gathered up the forms — -the words had not been 
 counted. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 51 
 
 “ I do hope he is not a-goin’ to be ill” said Phillips, as 
 he left. 
 
 Sandy came to dinner full of determination. Nora 
 would probably leave immediately, catching the train in 
 the evening. She would be at Northlap next day. 
 
 He met Araminta and Hildebrand cheerfully as they 
 requested private conversation in the library after dinner. 
 
 They wished to come to look for the will. It was their 
 right — they insisted on it. 
 
 “ So when we start for Scotland,” said Hildebrand. 
 
 “ Paris/’ jerked in Araminta. 
 
 Sandy gazed at them patiently, recited in what he may 
 have meant for a tuneful voice something about one taking 
 the high road and one the low road, and — but the end 
 of the verse was cut off by Araminta’s stern declara- 
 tion as to the heartlessness of singing in the house of the 
 dead. 
 
 “ If it had even been a hymn,” said Hildebrand severely. 
 
 Sandy said something weakly which sounded like the 
 reaping by-and-by. 
 
 He then observed gravely that if Miss Mellicombe and 
 Mr. Hannyside wished to superintend the movements of 
 trustee and solicitor, they must do so, but he really thought 
 if one took the high road and one — that was, if one went to 
 Paris and one went to Loch Lomond 
 
 “ Glenicurrie,” corrected Allenbury. 
 
 “It would do just as well,” finished Sandy. 
 
 They would go together ; they would see the will found 
 together. 
 
 Sandy sighed softly. Perhaps, then, as Loch Lomond— 
 Glenicurrie — had better be searched first — and they would 
 go to Paris. 
 
 “ And the green drake,” said Sandy wearily, “ will be 
 certainly gone when it’s over.” 
 
 Morning brought the sadness of a funeral — the pomp of 
 our last drive on earth — the pacing of the sleek black 
 horses, and the forced gravity of those who do not care as 
 
5 2 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 they follow us — who forget that, as the dead in its coach 
 has passed, so they too must pass, and that even then 
 grim death may choose them for the next in the never-filled 
 ranks of his army. 
 
 It was over at last. This, our brother here departed, 
 would never fret or weary again ; would never have the 
 right to breathe the fresh air, to look at the soft, blue sky, 
 and the glory of early summer upon the world. 
 
 Dead — passed from the little piece we pass along, and 
 who could say where the spirit kept watch ? 
 
 The blinds clicked upwards to let in the light of day ; 
 voices were raised over the luncheon for the mourners. It 
 was over. Better, since it is an everyday occurrence, to 
 clear the memory away. 
 
 One man sorrowed for his master. Watson, stiff and 
 dignified, had a choke in his voice as he came up after 
 luncheon to ask if any one would come down to see the 
 horses. 
 
 The request brought Hildebrand on to the saddle of his 
 horse, which was of the genus hobby, without delay. 
 
 He said, emphatically, that the stable must be advertised 
 for sale at once ; that he would not be associated with 
 gambling and the turf. “ I therefore direct/’ said Hilde- 
 brand, to the somewhat absorbed profile of Mr. Allenbury, 
 “ I therefore direct ” 
 
 “We will go,” said the lawyer, “to the stables. I want 
 to see Rubicon’s foal, Watson.” 
 
 “ I therefore direct,” boomed Hildebrand. 
 
 “The stables/’ said Allenbury, turning, “shall not be 
 interfered with until the will is found. Afterwards its fate 
 will lie in your hands — more or less— that is, more or — 
 ahem ! — less.” 
 
 And he left Hildebrand in angry rumination. 
 
 “ A great crowd of old horses eating oats and wasting 
 money,” snapped Araminta. “ Surely they can be done 
 away with and sold to cabs.” 
 
 “ Valuable brood mares, madam,” said Watson stiffly, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 53 
 
 “ do not go as cabbers. Rubicon and Berdiner have both 
 foals, and ” 
 
 Araminta looked as if she considered the discussion 
 indelicate ; she said every horse could not be a brood mare, 
 and she stared at Mr. Allenbury almost viciously. “ You 
 know, and there is something you will not tell,” she said, 
 irritably. 
 
 Hildebrand wished to know if he understood that he — 
 Hildebrand — was to have his wishes brushed aside, and 
 then the affairs of Belial were to eat corn provided with his 
 money, for he considered it almost impertinent. 
 
 With a very red face, Mr. Allenbury got up and remarked 
 that, for all Mr. Hannyside knew, the money might be left 
 to Watson. 
 
 “ Nothing could or should be done until the will was 
 found, and ” 
 
 “ Mrs. Acland,” said Marston smoothly. 
 
 “ I could not come before,” said Nora, “ because I didn’t 
 want to tumble over the funeral. So I had a bath and a 
 rest in London, and here I am.” 
 
 Nora was garbed in dark grey ; she led Mickey, her 
 terrier, by a chain, and Delia, her own maid, stood at the 
 door, looking bewildered and slightly distressed. 
 
 “We did not know,” said Araminta, unhinging herself 
 from her chair, " that your wife was coming, Mr. Acland.” 
 
 “ His wife,” said Nora, eyeing the large young lady 
 critically. “ His little trip to Paris with you is crushed, 
 Miss ” 
 
 “ Araminta,” said Sandy happily. “ Mellieombe — that 
 is.” 
 
 Miss Mellieombe, with heightened colour, immediately 
 involved herself in a toilsome web of explanation. It con- 
 cerned the real reason of her desire for travel. Her sense of 
 duty, as regarded the will, her deep distress at being the 
 cause of confounded jealousy. 
 
 Nora kissed Sandy ; she appeared at first to have for- 
 gotten him, and said it was the Irish temperament. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 54 
 
 “Having seen you,” began Nora, with a twinkle in her 
 grey eyes. 
 
 “ Don’t say you feel you may safely go back,” whispered 
 Sandy softly, “don’t, Nora.” 
 
 Mickey, weary from his journey, found a cushion, and 
 prepared for slumber. He was disturbed in his fifth wheel 
 and scrape by a shriek from Miss Mellicombe. 
 
 “ The dog ! ” she said, “on the cushion.” 
 
 “ He likes soft ones,” said Nora equably. “ He picks 
 them out at home. Don’t scrape through to the feathers, 
 Mickey, not here ! ” 
 
 Mickey completed his last circle and lay down. Miss 
 Mellicombe said, snappily, that the proper places for dogs 
 were kennels — and eyed the cushion unhappily. The fur- 
 niture of the drawing-room might yet be hers. 
 
 “ Goodness ! if we were all in our proper places,” said 
 Nora, “ half my life would have been spent in the poor- 
 house — Sandy’s as a teller in a bank. wSandy, the roan mare 
 broke loose yesterday.” 
 
 “ Oh ! ” said Sandy eagerly. 
 
 “ She rolled on the new bed of carnations in the front,” 
 said Nora. “ They were splinters when I left. Con said 
 they’d be the ‘ grandest cuttin’s intirely,’ and I left him 
 planting them.” 
 
 “ A horse — loose in the pleasure gardens,” said Araminta 
 faintly. 
 
 “The dear! she jumped the wooden gate,” said Nora, 
 “ —must have ! It’s that Timsy Blake, Sandy, who thinks 
 stable doors are meant to be left open. And oh ! Sandy, 
 Kathleen killed a three-pounder— a nice fish ! And — old 
 James O’Neill was shot coming home from Knockdrew 
 fair.” 
 
 “ Shot — dead ! ” said Hildebrand. “ Good — er — 
 Heavens ! What a country.” 
 
 “ Oh, no, they missed him,” said Nora, “ but they hit his 
 pigs, before they were fit for it, either.” 
 
 Hildebrand, getting slowly to his feet, inquired, with 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 55 
 
 bulging eyes, if Mrs. Acland really intended to imply that 
 it mattered to a pig when it suffered death. If she implied 
 that it was not fit — fit — in the sense ? 
 
 “ Oh, good gracious ! when it wasn’t prepared at all,” 
 said Nora. “ Don’t you keep pigs here ?” 
 
 “ We do — as pigs,” said Hildebrand gravely. “ I should 
 like to say a few words ” 
 
 “ Well, we do — as bacon,” said Mrs. Acland briskly. 
 “ How could the beast be fit before it was fattened ? He 
 was carting them home. What about horses ? I want to 
 see them if you’re going ? ” 
 
 Hildebrand sat down. 
 
 Delia had remained outside the door, but her loneliness 
 was cheered by Watson, who had also left the room 
 to wait. 
 
 Watson was cast down, and inclined for sympathy. He 
 recounted his sorrows to a sleepy but kindly listener. 
 
 “ Praises be ! — to be wantin’ to do away with the 
 horses,” said Delia. “ An’ they such gran’ breedy ones, 
 more-be-token.” 
 
 An invitation to inspect the stud had just been given 
 when Allenbury, Sandy, and Nora came out. Miss Melli- 
 combe had produced a book, over which she said she must 
 meditate, and Hildebrand would not leave her to find the 
 will in his absence. 
 
 “ In any case,” he said, “ he did not wish to see horses, 
 especially racehorses.” 
 
 “ Why do those two hate the racing stable? ” said Nora, 
 when she had worshipped the stud. 
 
 “ When they see the old master’s will there may be a 
 surprise on them,” said Watson gloomily. “ Last words 
 he said to me three days ago were : ‘Watson, the colours 
 must come home in front — must, Watson! — even if I’m 
 not here to see ’em do it.’ ” 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Nothing goes right. We would and we would not. 
 
 — Measure for Measure . 
 
 “ Q ANDY,” said Mrs. Acland, in a voice lacking its 
 vZ/ usual gaiety, “ Sandy.” 
 
 Mr. Acland walked to the door of his dressing-room, to 
 answer “ Yes,” dolorously. 
 
 “ Do . . . they always fight, Sandy?” said Nora. 
 “ Always ? ” 
 
 “ Generally,” said Sandy gloomily. “ No, Phillips, I will 
 not take the tall hat to Scotland.” 
 
 Phillips murmured decorous advice as to leaving it 
 behind for ever. 
 
 “ And you will send it to be blocked, Phillips,” said 
 Sandy Acland acridly, “ and renovated.” 
 
 “Would have cheered poor Mr. Hannyside up if he 
 could have seen it, sir,” said Phillips, respectfully. 
 “ Memory of sport behind him, sir ” ; he took the tall hat 
 away. 
 
 “ It's their religious differences, Nora,” said Sandy sadly, 
 “so you see. One owns a High Church curate, or she 
 would if he’d marry her, and the other cannot admit the 
 possibility of starch in heaven- — that is white vestments,” 
 said Mr. Acland hurriedly, “ or a cross.” 
 
 Nora said firmly that “ A cross could never be missing 
 where Hildebrand existed, even in the spirit.” 
 
 “ It’s my belief,” she went on, “ that the old man has 
 played some last practical joke upon them, and that they’ll 
 find it out” 
 
 The Aclands went down to breakfast in a subdued 
 humour, Mickey, the terrier, trotting behind them. Delia, 
 
 56 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 57 
 
 who found England “ cruel grand in itself," followed Phillips 
 to the kitchen regions, observing nervously as she went 
 that she'd rather face Father Pat, an' he vexed, than all the 
 strangers. 
 
 As it was Friday, Araminta was satisfying a healthy 
 appetite with dry toast and boiled eggs. Hildebrand took 
 cold roast beef, not because he liked it, but to show the 
 path to glory did not lie over such foolish abstinence. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury was seated between the two, looking 
 flushed and annoyed. At eight-thirty man finds it trying 
 to be referred to to settle endless disputes. 
 
 His conversation ran irritably. 
 
 “ I really cannot say if the will will be found in Scotland, 
 Miss Mellicombe. Do I think it unlikely, as it is certain 
 to be in Paris ? I am not certain of anything. Do I think 
 you could immediately take down the pictures you think 
 godless in the house here, Mr. Hannyside ? I say certainly 
 not — until you are sure of your position. Why will I not 
 tell you distinctly who Northlap Priory belongs to ? Because 
 I am bound by a promise of secrecy, and if the will is not 
 found it will be disposed of. Oh, good morning," said Mr. 
 Allenbury almost eagerly, seeing Sandy and his wife. 
 
 “ We have not much time before the train goes," said 
 Araminta, looking at the clock. “You are late." 
 
 “ Very little indeed," chimed in Hildebrand ; “ you are 
 very late." 
 
 Nora observed cheerily that heaps of trains went to 
 Scotland, and sat down without any air of haste. 
 
 “ Better to miss a train than have indigestion," said 
 Mrs. Acland. “ Worst thing you ever did to hunt a horse 
 too soon after his feed." 
 
 Araminta grew peevish at the sound of the word horse. 
 
 “Useless animals- — eating," she sniffed crossly, “eating 
 my — our — money. Old beasts " 
 
 “ Darlings," said Nora pleasantly. “ If you hunted, Miss 
 Mellicombe, you’d know. I never kill one at home until 
 they cannot enjoy their lives any more." 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 S3 
 
 “ When there is real distress in the world ” began 
 
 Hildebrand pompously. “ It seems to me that useless 
 four-footed animals — oh — ah ! ” cried Hildebrand. 
 
 Nora, looking placidly at her terrier, said the dog often 
 did that. He thought it was clever. 
 
 For Hildebrand, to mark his point, had waved a fork 
 impaled in cold beef, and Mickey, mounted on a chair close 
 behind, had skilfully bitten the meat off. 
 
 Marston announced the arrival of the motors, and the 
 probability of missing the train. Miss Hannyside’s maid 
 and Delia had already left in the bus ; Phillips, regretting 
 the inability of the vehicle to hold further passengers, 
 waited urbanely for the motors. 
 
 A long journey is at all times trying ; when it is under- 
 taken with two people racked by anxiety and bad temper, 
 it becomes positively painful. Araminta and Hildebrand 
 never agreed save as to horses and racing. Every four- 
 legged animal drawing trap or cart upon the roads they 
 passed made them look sourly thoughtful. 
 
 To begin with, owing to Nora’s lack of punctuality, 
 followed by the last difficulty of removing Mickey from his 
 hold upon a peacock’s tail, they missed the fast train from 
 Norton, and the express at Euston. 
 
 The choice of waiting until afternoon, or travelling by a 
 train of leisurely habits, being laid before them, they chose 
 to go on. 
 
 The tension was telling on Hildebrand — he was hot and 
 irritable, with his round eyes bulging jumpily. He was so 
 absorbed that when a mumbled request for The Sunday 
 Times resulted in his receiving the Pink ) Un ) he took the 
 flaring paper without noticing what he carried. Struggling 
 ill-humouredly through the crowd, Hildebrand encountered 
 Mr. Grimes and Mr. Jones, two elders of Greater Bethel, 
 who fixed pained eyes upon the paper as the youth rushed 
 to greet them. They were his greatest friends. 
 
 Hildebrand flung out his woes and fears, to be checked 
 by Mr. Grimes’s look of displeasure and inquiry, “ if it was 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 59 
 
 now necessary to buy this journal ? No doubt it contains 
 a reference to your lamented uncle,” said Mr. Grimes, 
 pausing when they came to Hildebrand’s train. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury trod upon a porter’s toe as Hildebrand, 
 looking up at the station roof instead of his purchase, 
 replied that his uncle was never likely to be mentioned in 
 so fine a paper. “ One that I love,” said Hildebrand 
 emphatically. 
 
 Mr. Tones, who exuded holiness, sniffed laboriously. 
 
 Mr. Grimes observed coldly that he had not been aware 
 of Hildebrand’s liking for such literature. It was news to 
 Lesser Cheriton. And his eyes twinkled softly. 
 
 “But, you yourself,” said Hildebrand. “You take it.” 
 
 “ Certainly not,” said Mr. Grimes, with hasty wrath. 
 
 “For years,” went on Hildebrand, bewildered, “I have 
 read it on the Sabbath morn. Oh, must you go? Yes, 
 for years, and I’ve seen it on your table I could swear ” 
 
 The elders melted away, and Hildebrand looked down. 
 
 “You can give it to Sandy,” said Nora gently; “he 
 loves it.” 
 
 Hildebrand knocked against several unoffending passen- 
 gers as he raved to and fro. He declined to apologize for 
 the demolition of a parrot’s cage, and he wailed to the roof 
 for justice. 
 
 “ Wh — what will they think — what will they say ? I 
 must find them — follow them — miss the train. Madam, 
 I cannot help your poll parrot. I must clear myself . . .” 
 
 The first smile which Araminta had compassed for the 
 day spread hopefully across her large face. 
 
 “You really ought to,” she said sweetly. 
 
 Hildebrand wavered in short rushes, gave one look at 
 Araminta, and finally darted into the carriage. 
 
 “ I must endure contumely,” said Hildebrand, rolling his 
 eyes. 
 
 He leant from the window as the train started, and 
 catching sight of his friends, failed to improve his 
 character, for flurried and distraught, he emphasized 
 
6o 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 his shrieked-out explanation by waving the Pink ’ Un 
 emphatically. 
 
 The elders turned their backs in marked displeasure, 
 cooling their hurt eyes by studying an advertisement of 
 Black-and-White Whisky. 
 
 Hildebrand, realising his last mistake, sat down heavily, 
 to pour out anguished confidences concerning Miss 
 Susannah Grimes. 
 
 “ His daughter/’ groaned poor Hildebrand, “ wrapped in 
 sanctity — eats galantine on Sunday mornings to save the 
 cook frying bacon, and now she will hear — she will hear — 
 of this ” 
 
 Misery passed on to meet peevish ill-humour. When 
 Araminta, who had forgotten Friday, began her luncheon, 
 Hildebrand’s reminder reft a portion of chicken from her 
 very lips. 
 
 “Breakfast nonsense forgotten?” snarled Hildebrand 
 viciously, watching his cousin’s subsequent chastened 
 luncheon on a bun and bread, with marked pleasure. 
 
 The fast train would have had a restaurant car. On 
 this Araminta fasted and endured. Chocolate and butter- 
 scotch upset her digestion ; cold eggs, fetched by her maid, 
 made her bilious. 
 
 The journey dragged on, and it was night when they 
 were decanted at a wayside station, to look out along 
 a perfectly kept road and see nothing to meet them. 
 
 “ It wass the way, the vehicle wass here for the six/’ said 
 the station-master, “ an’ there be no telegraph. They went 
 back. It is seven miles to the lodge.” 
 
 Every one looked blankly at everyone else. No one had 
 sent a wire. They were seven miles from food and shelter. 
 
 “ It is the way — Tummus Macpherson has a vehicle,” 
 said the station-master kindly. “ An’ his house is not so 
 far for a call. It will be better than to sit upon the bit 
 trunks for the nicht.” 
 
 A telegram could not be dispatched ; the office was 
 closed. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 61 
 
 Phillips went to the house of Mr. Tummus Macpherson, 
 to return after a weary half hour with a fiery-headed and 
 irascible giant who drove a species of tray upon wheels, 
 attached to a shaggy Scotch pony. For this, it appeared, 
 he asked the sum of one golden pound for the drive. 
 
 “ The leddies can sit up, and the lassies,” he said, “ and 
 that with meself will be enough. She do stop at a beeg 
 heel,” added Tummus gloomily, “ there bein’ no large heart 
 in her.” 
 
 There was certainly not much large body. 
 
 Mr. Macpherson, who at intervals could be heard 
 lamenting guid porridge and scones in an undertone — he 
 had been reft from his supper — assisted Araminta to a seat 
 on a board ; her maid, pouting sulkily, was directed to sit 
 on the floor on a sack. 
 
 “The other leddie the noo,” said Tummus, “ for it will be 
 the late road for me.” 
 
 Hildebrand Hannyside’s complexion had been gradually 
 assuming a green tinge. Araminta starting first, even in a 
 tray on wheels. Araminta free for perhaps thirty precious 
 minutes to probe into drawers and cupboards, and find 
 documents. Careless men added codicils to their wills, and 
 left those codicils loose. 
 
 A gurgle of positive anguish came from Hildebrand’s 
 pale lips. He looked wildly at the dusty, desolate night — * 
 he cried that he must drive. 
 
 “ Hildebrand’s ill,” said Sandy, hearing the gurgle. 
 
 Hildebrand fixed his bulging eyes longingly upon the 
 tray. 
 
 “ This gentleman is ill,” said Sandy to Tummus. “ You 
 must pack him in.” 
 
 “A walk weel joost do him guid,” growled Tummus. 
 “ It ees the train upon his stumack.” 
 
 Nora thought that might certainly prove upsetting. She 
 shook her head resolutely towards the portion of board left 
 vacant for her to sit on, and announced that she meant to 
 walk. 
 
62 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ I should only get off every minute to rest that poor 
 rat,” she said, “and I weigh nine stone. You can have it 
 all to yourself, Miss Mellicombe.” 
 
 Hildebrand Hannyside corrected this announcement, as, 
 with a frantic and joyous plea of illness, he absolutely 
 swamped into the pony cart and sat beside Araminta, a 
 flush of triumph replacing his pallor. Now, at least, they 
 would arrive together. 
 
 “ But, Mr. Allenbury ? ” began Sandy. 
 
 Allenbury said firmly that he would also walk. 
 
 The luggage was piled upon the platform, and the pony 
 cart started. Phillips was nowhere to be seen. He had 
 waited to watch the packing of the tray, and then dis- 
 appeared into the night. 
 
 The shaggy pony clattered off at a jerky canter. Sandy, 
 Nora, and Allenbury tramped away along the dusty 
 road. 
 
 Seven miles. . . . Seven miles, when night has fallen, is 
 a long and weary walk. 
 
 Nora faced it bravely ; when she had raced for a mile, 
 she flagged visibly, and wanted to know if they were half 
 way. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury said he thought so, tactfully ; the next 
 rise, he said, would bring them into view of Glenicurrie, 
 that was, if Glenicurrie could be seen. Pie omitted the 
 fact that five long miles lay between them and the trees, 
 which, on a clear day, could be seen from the top of the 
 hill. 
 
 Nora, setting her thinly shod feet down stubbornly, said 
 it was not a rise, but a mountain, and as one could not see 
 in the dark, it was no use the house being so near. They 
 were plodding up the long, smooth steep when the hoot of 
 a motor sounded in the distance. 
 
 “ I wonder,” said Sandy, “ why Phillips stayed behind ! 
 It is not like Phillips,” he said thoughtfully. 
 
 A Ducellier light brought its silvery eye over the crest of 
 the hill. It came swiftly at them, blinding them with its 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 63 
 
 radiance, picked their dodging bodies out of the dim- 
 ness, and then grew stationary, embracing them in its 
 gleam. 
 
 “ I hoped, sir, you would be about here,” said Phillips, 
 getting nimbly out of the car — a big tourer, with a long- 
 nosed bonnet, which spoke of power. 
 
 “ Phillips ! ” said Nora. “ How ? Why ? ” 
 
 “ The station-master, madam,” said Phillips, “ obliging 
 and kindly, spoke of Sir Mark Dalgill two miles away and 
 of his motor car. Borrowed the station-masters bicycle, 
 madam, unfortunately rather short for me, and — ahem — 
 scorched to Rathpeffer, explaining our unfortunate 
 dilemma to Sir Mark, who kindly lent his Napier imme- 
 diately to take us to Glenicurrie, sir,” said Phillips to his 
 master. 
 
 “ Phillips,” said Sandy, in accents of pure rapture, “ you 
 are a wonder.” 
 
 “ Certainly, sir,” said Phillips, opening the door. 
 
 It was bliss after the weary tramp, the tramp which 
 must have lasted so long, to pack into the big car, and hear 
 the purr of the powerful engine when she had turned to 
 breast the hill. Scotland became a friendly place now in 
 the darkness ; a dim land of heather and faintly running 
 burns. 
 
 They swooped down a steep slope and down into a valley 
 between two hills, humming forward carefully, but at 
 twenty miles an hour instead of two. 
 
 “We shall pick up Araminta ; how glad she will be,” 
 said Nora, snuggling down into the light coat which 
 Phillips’s thought had provided for her. 
 
 “ And Hildebrand,” said Mr. Allenbury, “ Hildebrand 
 must be put upon the step, or he will suffer torture.” 
 
 Sandy said that overloading was a matter for Sir Mark’s 
 chauffeur to consider. But as they flew along, the head- 
 light picked no two-wheeled tray drawn by a sulky pony 
 out of the night. 
 
 They paused at narrow iron gates, and swung into a 
 
64 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 gravelled sweep, a low, dim house standing dark and quiet 
 behind it. 
 
 “ Oh, they must have simply killed that poor pony,” 
 said Nora sorrowfully. “ We never caught them up.” 
 
 A square of light flashed from the door into the gloom ; 
 other lights seemed to spring into being. The caretaker 
 expressed vivid surprise in broad and somewhat unin- 
 telligible Scotch. 
 
 “ He had indeed given them up. He was verra sorry 
 for sure. An* the leddy left in the night. Gudeness 
 gracious, but what must they be thinkin' ; an 1 what provi- 
 dence had sent the car? ” 
 
 “ It was not providence — it was Phillips,” said Nora, as 
 she got out. Further, she asked why Miss Mellicombe 
 and Mr. Hannyside had not given warning of their fellow- 
 travellers' arrival. 
 
 The caretaker, whose name of course was Sandy, ob- 
 served with surprise that no one — not even a sperrit— had 
 come to warn him. 
 
 “ Then they have fallen down a cliff,” said Sandy breath- 
 lessly. “ There’s been an accident ! ” 
 
 Phillips carefully removed the borrowed coats. 
 
 “ The road we came upon, sir,” he explained, “ was 
 possibly not the road traversed by the market cart. It 
 was slightly longer, but more suitable for a motor. 
 Having consulted Sir Mark’s chauffeur, we decided to 
 take it, sir.” 
 
 Sandy looked at his man, and said nothing, extremely 
 eloquently. It did not take a wizard to remember the 
 fact that, if they had overtaken the toiling pony, Phillips 
 would have had to transfer himself into the market 
 cart. 
 
 “ They will probably be some little time as yet,” said 
 Phillips gravely. “ Impossible to be too careful as to 
 roads when driving at night in a motor, sir.” 
 
 Sandy McClasky’s wife hurriedly dished up supper. 
 There were two excellent trout, grilled with great skill, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 65 
 
 and cold chicken and ham, and cream-cheese ; home- 
 made bread of several varieties, and honey and marma- 
 lade. 
 
 Hunger made waiting impossible. Reserving one chicken 
 for the other travellers, they went into a cosy sitting-room, 
 where a peat and wood fire glowed in a low grate. 
 Reginald Hannyside had spent every August, and some- 
 times September, in the lodge. It was comfortable, with 
 the plain comfort which man delights in after a long day’s 
 fishing. One turned from one’s dinner to the fire to doze 
 in deep arm-chairs. 
 
 The stage of tobacco had been reached when the scrunch 
 of wheels outside, and the sound of raised voices, brought 
 the three to the window. Sandy put the lamp out so that 
 they were not easily seen. 
 
 Hildebrand and Araminta could be heard quarrelling 
 bitterly as they drove to the door. 
 
 “ I tell you I will not allow it.” 
 
 “You are not at all sure how far your authority 
 will go.” 
 
 Then silence, and ; “ I suppose we shall have to rout 
 some one up to meet the Aclands ” — this in more amicable 
 tones. 
 
 “ Yes,” said Sandy softly. 
 
 “ It seems rather hard on a man. If we sent this back 
 a little way,” said Araminta, in what she believed to be 
 a whisper — the cart was waiting at the swing gate, and 
 Macpherson was down — “they would have to pay half.” 
 
 Hildebrand thought it would be a good idea. 
 
 The yellow light gleamed from the hall door, and Phillips 
 paced forth to meet the travellers. 
 
 “ You ! ” said Araminta, gasping — “ you ! Where are — 
 is — are — Mr. Acland ? ” 
 
 Sandy McAllister’s Scotch voice explained swiftly. 
 
 “ The ithers had been at the lodge for half an hour or 
 mair from oot the motor, an’ were cosy an’ warm in the 
 rum.” 
 
 5 
 
66 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ Came — in a motor ! ” Araminta’s shrill voice rose 
 swiftly. “ They have been here for hours ! ” She sat on 
 her wooden seat and raised her hands tragically. “ A 
 conspiracy,” she spat forth viciously. “ That Allenbury 
 creature wanted to get here first to find the will and 
 tamper with it. It is a plot.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury, his complexion of a fine scarlet hue, 
 wished to know in a strangled whisper if that was not 
 sufficient grounds for an action for libel. 
 
 Sandy said he feared not — certainly as the cousins’ 
 lawyer. 
 
 “ If it was the last penny — if they were the last clients 
 Allenbury & Allenbury ever owned, I would not keep 
 them on,” blazed the irate lawyer stormily. 
 
 “ And that Acland,” boomed Hildebrand. “ What have 
 they been doing all this time ? ” 
 
 “ Partaking of supper, sir.” Phillips advanced softly to 
 the side of the trap. “ Fortunate enough to borrow a 
 motor, sir. Allow me, madam — these carts being difficult 
 of access. Charming drive, madam.” 
 
 Araminta, unclamping herself stiffly, wished to know 
 why she had not been overtaken and rescued. 
 
 “ Road you took too hilly for motor-driving, madam,” 
 said Phillips urbanely. “ Impossible to be too careful in 
 the dark, madam, especially with borrowed cars. No 
 doubt your route far more picturesque, madam.” 
 
 “ Picturesque ! ” said Miss Mellicombe, bitterly stalking 
 into the house, and directing that her luggage should be 
 fetched immediately. 
 
 But Sandy McClasky was completely obdurate on this 
 subject. If it were’ for a Creestian boddy he would send 
 forth Jan, the lad, but the bit goods must be waitin’ till 
 the morrow. 
 
 Phillips took Nora’s bag and Sandy’s suit-case from 
 where he had concealed them under Macpherson’s feet, 
 and went on calmly. 
 
 Araminta’s voice could be heard raging outside. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 67 
 
 “ Good heavens — the pipes ! ” Sandy looked at the 
 cloud of tobacco. “ We’d forgotten.” 
 
 Hasty concealment did not relieve the atmosphere of a 
 pungent odour, even with the windows flung wider. 
 
 Mrs. McClasky hurriedly rearranged the supper table, 
 so that the second chicken showed in his untouched 
 freshness, flanked by salad, cream-cheese, and the variety 
 of cakes and bread. 
 
 Araminta, in bitter mood, and announcing a weariness 
 which was unbearable, stalked into the room. She was 
 followed hurriedly by Hildebrand. 
 
 The blight of Friday fell once more upon hunger. 
 Fish — yes, there had been fish ; but unfortunately Phillips, 
 who believed it would not keep hot, had shared the one left 
 over with Delia. 
 
 “ Being myself accustomed to fish upon Fridays,” apolo- 
 gized Phillips, “ wife a Catholic, madam.” 
 
 Miss Mellicombe took cream-cheese almost savagely, as 
 Hildebrand explained the merits of the home-cured ham. 
 
 Presently, Hildebrand, wrinkling his nose, believed the 
 windows had never been opened since Mr. Hannyside’s 
 last visit, for the place reeked of smoke. 
 
 “ Astonishing the way it clings,” said Sandy, touching 
 something warm in his coat pocket. 
 
 Hildebrand did not smoke. He considered it immoral. 
 His face of chaste displeasure when Araminta lighted her 
 cigarettes, which she smoked hurriedly and without real 
 enjoyment, was always a study. 
 
 It was too late to commence search that night. 
 
 Araminta solemnly locked the door of the sitting-room 
 and tiny gun-room beyond it, and handed the keys to 
 Sandy. It was her gentle way of showing her lack of trust 
 in her late uncle’s legal adviser. He acknowledged the 
 act with a grim smile. 
 
 It was difficult to feel depressed at Glenicurrie in the 
 morning. Reginald Hannyside had made a hobby of the 
 place ; a rock garden, so beautifully kept that its wildness 
 
68 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 was completely preserved, humped its beauties below the 
 windows. Late rhododendrons, azaleas, white pinks, 
 countless brilliant little rock flowers, crouched in nooks 
 and trailed over crannies. The grey-brown waters of the 
 lake lapped close by, and an active river, tuned to hoarse 
 murmurs by recent rains, danced gaily into it. The fresh 
 Highland air blew sweet and clean across hill and lake, 
 the kiss of health in its breath. 
 
 Lake and river were of the best in Scotland, teeming 
 with big brown trout, with salmon in the river. Later the 
 white trout fishing was excellent in the lower lake and 
 stretch of the river. 
 
 When Sandy woke to the soothing gurgle of the waters, 
 the spirit raised years ago at Dooloch Lake rose in him. 
 
 Phillips, roused from slumber, produced tea. Sandy 
 McClasky was only too willing to scurry for rods and 
 tackle. 
 
 It was of course unpardonable of Mr. Acland, out on so 
 grave a mission, to return with his wife at eleven o’clock 
 with a goodly basket of trout and a small salmon. 
 
 Mrs. McClasky went smilingly to cook eggs and bacon 
 and to take five varieties of hot bread from the nook she 
 kept them hot in ; but the faces of Araminta and Hilde- 
 brand were stony with displeasure. 
 
 It is even possible that Mr. Acland would have been an 
 hour later had not Allenbury appeared, waving wildly, on 
 the shores. 
 
 “ Since eight,” said Allenbury jerkily, discreetly mixing 
 a smile and a sigh, “ they have been fuming. I think,” he 
 said mildly, “ that they are hungry.” 
 
 “ But good gracious,” said Sandy, “ why wait break- 
 fast?” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury observed still more mildly that Sandy 
 seemed to forget that he had the key of both sitting-rooms 
 in his pocket. 
 
 At this Nora made further delay by sitting down to 
 laugh helplessly. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 69 
 
 “ And he hasn’t / " said Mrs. Acland, wiping her eyes, “ for 
 he threw them into the little drawer in the hall table before 
 he went to bed last night. We’ve had tea and cold scones, 
 but, oh, Araminta.” 
 
 “ Fish, madam,” said Phillips, who had come to row an 
 oar, “ will console Miss Mellicombe.” 
 
 “ I suggested the windows,” said Allen bury, “but they 
 are some way from the ground, and small. Also Araminta 
 would not allow Hildebrand to get in first, and Hildebrand 
 would not allow Araminta, and so they waited. I took 
 breakfast in the kitchen,” he added. 
 
 Sandy tried not to look like an elderly and naughty 
 child as he met the charges laid upon him by fate. 
 
 “It was all for fish, too, for your breakfast,” he said to 
 Araminta ; “ I thought you could not do without fish.” 
 
 To which Miss Mellicombe shot forth, gratefully, that 
 she detested fish, and Hildebrand remarked gloomily that 
 for his part it always reminded him of Rome. 
 
 Mrs. McClasky counselled more breakfasts in the kitchen. 
 “ The rum not bein’ red up or dusted the noo,” she said, 
 eyeing her younger guests with candid dislike ; “ though I 
 put the steps to the window the leddy wudna let me in,” 
 she added acidly. 
 
 When Araminta, irritable from hunger, asked for the 
 keys, Sandy’s journey to the hall table bore an air of 
 guilt. 
 
 “ There ! ” said Araminta, looking at Allenbury, “ for 
 any dishonest person to take out — there ; oh, Mr. Ac- 
 land ” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury breathed heavily. “ There is not a 
 judge,” he said to the ceiling, “who would not give it in 
 my favour.” 
 
 Phillips, waiting with a duster, looked respectfully 
 solicitous. 
 
 “ Exceedingly flushed, sir,” he said sympathetically. 
 “Not well, sir? If I might suggest a little soda water, 
 
70 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ A little verdict/’ said Allenbury bitterly, as he watched 
 Araminta unlock the door. 
 
 A further wait was necessary while turf ashes were lifted 
 and powdery dust removed. And then a breakfast such as 
 Scotland can produce smoked on the table. Oat cakes, 
 scones, griddle bread, soda cakes, yeast rolls, Highland 
 mutton ham, and honey and trout and eggs. 
 
 Sandy thought contentedly that he wished the search 
 might take a day or two ; the memory of his big trout’s 
 fight for life was hot in him. 
 
 “ Took out every yard of line,” he prattled to Allenbury. 
 “Jumped six times, and tried to break me. Oh, fighting 
 fish, fighting fish — and Nora got a salmon — six pounds ; 
 but Nora is an artist and I’m not,” he said humbly. 
 
 At this speech, Mrs. Acland’s glance across the table 
 said plainly that whatever he was she was satisfied with 
 him. 
 
 Highly mollified by a third egg, and the absent-minded 
 eating of trout, Araminta grew better humoured, and 
 Hildebrand lost gloom. 
 
 The search in that little house could not be a long one. 
 There were no papers in the one bureau save a few old 
 letters, and the fishing and shooting book. The will had 
 certainly not been left in Scotland. 
 
 Sandy, brought in and questioned as to packets of papers, 
 shook his head. 
 
 “ The maister had no mind at all for the letters,” he 
 said. “Times he’d tear them to weeshy bits, and throw 
 them to the burn.” 
 
 Araminta, with a squeal of anguish, caught Mr. Allen 
 bury by the arm. 
 
 “ If he burnt it — what then ? ” she shrieked. “ Who 
 would get — there are crowds of relatives ? ” 
 
 “ Burn is a river,” said Allenbury, dislodging the young 
 lady firmly. “ It is Gaelic for a river, Miss Mellicombe.” 
 
 Miss Mellicombe relaxed stiffly, and with a marked 
 aspect of suspicion. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 7i 
 
 “ No mind had he for the papers,” went on Sandy. “It 
 wass for the sport he wass here.” 
 
 Clearly the will was not at Glenicurrie. 
 
 “Sandy,” said Hildebrand, after a pause, and over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 “Yes,” said Acland absently. 
 
 “Sandy, get a trap,” said Hildebrand, “and take some 
 telegrams to the station.” 
 
 “ I shall do no such thing,” said Mr. Acland testily, “ no 
 such thing, Hannyside.” 
 
 Hildebrand spun round and apologized. Sandy 
 McClasky, grinning faintly to the door, whispered to 
 Acland of the “ verra best pool in the river for feesh — a 
 mile down or mair — an 5 in fine order the day.” 
 
 “ Having done with the rootin’,” said Sandy, “ ye might 
 be for the sport.” 
 
 Sandy Acland thought they might. He stood con- 
 sidering as Hildebrand wrote out telegrams, and the care- 
 taker waited for them. 
 
 “ Backin’ the horses, no doubt,” said McClasky con- 
 fidentially, “as the uncle before him. I’m trustin’ the 
 chasers is well, Mr. Hannyside.” 
 
 Hildebrand raised his head with a grunt. 
 
 “ Great animals surely,” said Sandy McClasky, enthu- 
 siastically. “ I did give Mr. Hannyside a sheelin’ once, 
 and he sent me a postal order for twa an’ sax. It wass a 
 great deevidend entirely.” 
 
 Hildebrand stormed out that he had nothing to say 
 to godless, graceless racing, and he took Allenbury 
 aside. 
 
 This was to hold a consultation as to the journey to 
 Paris. Acland, suddenly discovering that he was suffering 
 from a headache which would take at least two days’ Scotch 
 air, inhaled by the water, to cure, counselled the wisdom of 
 writing. The concierge of the Villa Jasmin must be 
 warned. 
 
 He also suggested their stopping at an hotel, as the villa 
 
72 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 was very small and some way out. “ Reginald told me he 
 only breakfasted there,” said Sandy. “ It’s a box.” 
 
 “ I,” said Hildebrand, “shall certainly stop there. I have 
 never been to the French capital, and the company I might 
 encounter at these hotels would not suit me. One cannot 
 touch pitch,” went on Hildebrand. 
 
 “ Or rub off powder and not get a little white on your 
 cheek,” said Nora wickedly. 
 
 “ Of course some young men can never trust themselves,” 
 added Allenbury thoughtfully, “ so better stay out in the 
 green shades, Hildebrand.” 
 
 “If he stays, I shall stay until the will is found,” said 
 Araminta excitedly. 
 
 Nora looked at her gravely, a gravity hiding a twinkle in 
 her pretty grey Irish eyes. 
 
 “ The devotion of cousins,” she said softly. “ Sandy — 
 that is, Sandy, my husband — I am ready to fish.” 
 
 Araminta wrote a letter to Jacques Leroux. Hildebrand 
 could not, and she refused to allow directions to come from 
 any one else. She explained loftily that she was a very fine 
 French scholar. 
 
 Hildebrand presented his wires to Allenbury, directing 
 him to put their cost down in the bill. “They are all 
 counted,” warned Hildebrand, “and noted down.” 
 
 Allenbury put the papers in his pocket, and some words 
 he would have delighted in speaking, back in his throat. 
 Then he followed the Aclands to the river. 
 
 There was no poaching at Glenicurrie. Bailiffs patrolled 
 the banks ; the waters teemed with fish. 
 
 “ Ah, but ye should tak’ it on,” said McClasky, “ an ? 
 come here for the autumn. You should, Mrs. Acland, 
 mem.” 
 
 Nora, with a sigh, said they had heaps of fishing in 
 Ireland, “but not like this.” 
 
 To which McClasky replied that there were too many 
 Fridays in Eerland for the feeshin’. “With the bailiffs 
 hungry themselves, would they not be pullin' oot the 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 73 
 
 troutees for to eat,” said Sandy. “It is here ye shud be, 
 sir. With the sea but twa mile awa’, eef ye have young 
 men and leddies that like it.” 
 
 Alexander the Great and his sister Kathleen would very 
 much like it. As all mankind is possessed with the spirit 
 of unrest in the month of August, and leaves his country 
 home when it is at its loveliest, Nora sighed again ; for the 
 wild hills and the lakes, the rushing river, and the kiss of 
 the salt air had won her heart. 
 
 It took two whole days of strenuous casting before 
 Sandy was fit to travel. 
 
 He looked callously at the feverish anxiety of Araminta 
 and Hildebrand as they hovered on the banks of the lakes 
 and abused all things Scottish. 
 
 “ Ah, but the leddy — the leddy can throw the line,” said 
 McClasky happily. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury fished also, without the wild enthusiasm 
 of his companions, but with a keenly quiet enjoyment. 
 His contentment was soon lessened by the fuming of his 
 clients. 
 
 “ They will know— soon enough,” he would say grimly. 
 “ Oh soon enough, Acland.” 
 
 An inherent meanness appeared to be engrained in both 
 cousins. Araminta sent away chickens from the door because 
 of their extreme expense. Hildebrand agreed with her 
 until dinner time, when a rabbit, its painfully human con- 
 tour outlined in onion sauce, was laid before them. 
 
 “ The leddy an’ the twa gentlemen is to a cold supper 
 about ten,” said Mr. McClasky acidly. “ An’ a’ the feesh 
 is gone by the post, so the bit rabbit an a shape of rice is 
 all I can do.” 
 
 But the pie which appeared at supper did not taste of 
 rabbit — the salmon must have cooled with miraculous 
 celerity as it was ready just ten minutes after the fishers 
 came in. 
 
 “ I’m really sorry to leave it,” said Nora as they stood on 
 the gravel sweep, ready to go. “ It’s almost like Ireland 
 
74 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 here.” The golden memories they left to Sandy Mc- 
 Clasky and his wife made that worthy pair more anxious 
 than ever for their return. 
 
 “ Buy it a* up, ma’am,” pleaded Mrs. McClasky. “ There 
 is a sair lot of cakes I have not med for ye the while.” 
 
 She took a two-shilling piece from Araminta politely, 
 while Hildebrand, as owner, considered it quite unnecessary 
 to disburse tips. 
 
 “ Surely,” said Nora to the lawyer, a sudden thought 
 striking her, “ they won’t leave those two people to pay for 
 all our food.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury assured her decisively that even to a 
 penny the score would be rendered in the accounts. 
 
 “ Remarkably expensive place too — Scotland,” he said 
 cheerily. “ Even rabbits are half a crown each, and coal 
 is at famine prices.” 
 
 Araminta was a bad sailor. She plied herself with a 
 variety of patent medicines and then lay prone in a deck 
 chair with a hot bottle clasped in her arms, growing greener 
 to each slight roll of the boat ; they crossed by Newhaven 
 and Dieppe to save expense, but half-way across Araminta 
 might have been taken for a reincarnation of Queen Mary, 
 so often was the word Calais on her lips. 
 
 A fresh wind ruffled the blue sea, just enough to make 
 the boat rise and fall softly. Hildebrand scorned sea 
 sickness with an over-loud voice. He had only once been 
 upset in his life, and that was ptomaine poisoning on the 
 steamer cruising to Guernsey. “ Bad sardines,” said Hilde- 
 brand, eyeing the expanse of sea irritably. “ I hope to 
 Heaven — to-day, that our breakfast at Victoria ” 
 
 “ Mr. Hannyside,” said Nora, looking up, “ I left my 
 book in my bunk. I took a berth in case I felt bad. If 
 you’d get it for me.” 
 
 Hildebrand looked at Mrs. Acland’s husband, but he 
 was employed in rubbing the ankle he had been sharply 
 knocked on. 
 
 “ I’m not such a very good sailor myself,” said Nora, “ but 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 75 
 
 with a regular seadog like you one does not mind asking 
 you to go below.” 
 
 “ He will not come back,” said Nora, as Hildebrand 
 rose, walked to the door and disappeared with a sudden 
 rush. “ And I am weary of Greater Bethel.” Hildebrand 
 was trying to repeat to them a whole discourse of Mr. 
 Grimes how to keep his mind off being ill. 
 
 When Hildebrand appeared in the harbour at Dieppe he 
 regretted a violent fit of neuralgia which had made it 
 imperative for him to lie down. He was getting to the 
 gangway with a faint attempt at jauntiness when a 
 steward ran out hurriedly. 
 
 “ The gentleman who was so very sick,” he said, “ has 
 quite forgotten to pay for the brandy. Just one shilling. 
 Thank you , sir,” this with extreme politeness as two 
 sixpences were irritably thrown upon him by a flushed and 
 explaining youth. 
 
 “ When I ’olds ’is fat ’ead again,” said the third 
 steward to a sailor, “ when I does. Teetotaller too — took 
 spirits to save his life, e’ said. Not the first time he’d 
 saved it neither.” 
 
 Araminta, thanks to her precautions, had not been sick. 
 She was in good spirits as the luxurious train sped out of 
 Dieppe across fair and fertile France. 
 
 The finding of the will must be near at last. She would 
 know how much Hildebrand had, and whether the diamonds 
 were hers for ever. Araminta built castles in the air 
 instead of looking out at the sun-lit landscape. They were 
 peopled by an austere but worthy clergyman, who had 
 now almost succumbed to her determination to marry 
 him ; and a life of devotion blended with discreet amuse- 
 ment in a London suburb. It was always wise to go to 
 questionable plays so that one could discuss and condemn 
 them afterwards. You cannot see the real harm a risky 
 book does unless you read it. Araminta dreamed of rich 
 joys, as then, coupled with lenten fasts, with early rising 
 in autumn days ; and a church exquisite with stained 
 
76 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 glass. Also, remotely, of certain charities dispensed to 
 East-End parishioners. 
 
 Hildebrand, with the relief of returning health, thought 
 of Northlap when he was master. He would have a 
 meeting-house in the park and only take servants who 
 worshipped there. The stables should be turned into a 
 parish hall. The name of Hannyside should no longer 
 be stained by its appearance in the Calendar. 
 
 “ Paris,” said Nora, pointing to the distant spires of the 
 great city. 
 
 They were flying by the deep waters of the Seine as it 
 winds through the green valleys it waters. 
 
 Presently the ruinous and squalid houses which always 
 seem to line the banks of great railway lines appeared on 
 either side — changing to respectability as they come into 
 the Gare d'Ouest. 
 
 Sandy and Allenbury endeavoured to leave the search- 
 ing of the Villa Jasmin until the morning. There was 
 really no time to go up there now. Baths, dinner, and 
 theatre lay comfortably before them, but the headstrong 
 impatience of Araminta and Hildebrand would not be 
 subdued. They must at least go on to the villa. 
 
 “ They are afraid to lose sight of each other,” said 
 Allenbury with grim enjoyment. “ Drop our things at 
 the Regina then, and take the pair over. I won't search 
 to-night.” 
 
 Taxis sped as Paris taxis do, swooping and gliding 
 with complete contempt for the pedestrian, whom they 
 would summon for obstruction if they ran him down. 
 The Regina had been wired to for rooms, its soft pink- 
 hued comfort was regretfully left, and against a lowering 
 sky which talked of thunderstorms, they sped onwards. 
 
 The Villa Jasmin proved to be a tiny place, with a 
 garden in front and room for a motor or horses at the 
 back. It was what Mickey would have termed ‘convaniant 
 to the races ’ and out in the fresh air. Hannyside often 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 77 
 
 spent weeks there. He was fond of Paris, and detested 
 hotels. 
 
 Jacques Leroux, a worthy man, who made no attempt at 
 English, met them on the doorstep, his round, fat face 
 completely bewildered. 
 
 It bore, in fact, so guilty a look, that Araminta stood at 
 the gate and breathed suspicion. 
 
 “ That person,” she said austerely, “ has not attended to 
 my explicit directions. I see it in his face. 
 
 “ But, messieurs, mesdames, I am desolated, distressed, 
 began Jacques, “but I.” 
 
 Araminta took a step forward, then commenced to 
 speak French— she spoke what she believed to be the 
 language at a rapid rate, to show that she knew how 
 it was done. 
 
 « N’avy voo pas recoo mon lettre ? ” said Araminta 
 severely. “ Dong cela j’ai ordonne.” Plere Nora giggled 
 and Mr. Allenbury coughed. “ Comman-die— directee,” 
 
 thundered Araminta, looking round. “A preparery 
 soop ” 
 
 Jacques snapped hungrily at what he believed to be an 
 English word, and one which he understood ; before the 
 « e ” had leapt from Miss Mellicombe’s lips, he cried that, 
 as regarded potage, Marie, his wife, would have some of 
 supreme excellence — mademoiselle looked pale. It was 
 of onions and cabbage, but superb. 
 
 “ Mon lettre,” said Araminta firmly, and without under- 
 standing one word. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury then asked gently, in his French, what had 
 become of mademoiselle’s letter. “ One which she wrote 
 to you, Jacques— one written by mademoiselle in French. 
 
 Jacques wrung his hands as he informed monsieui that 
 the language was truly the trouble. Had it but been 
 in English he would have deciphered it. For were there 
 not many places where it could have been tianslated? 
 But on the faith of a Frenchman, Jacques cried that it was 
 but a word here and there which he could read. 
 
78 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ The letter so difficult, it is somewhere/' said Jacques, 
 searching his pocket. “ Times did we read, Marie and I, 
 and monsieur know there is no trouble I would not take, 
 for the lady said of a surety she was the niece of Monsieur 
 Hannyside — we saw that au fin. And we have done much. 
 Chickens — mademoiselle commanded chickens to be there 
 for the cause that Mr. Hannyside was dead. And Ciel ! 
 We know not the customs of English mourners, but 
 my good Marie she has procured them. Five, black- 
 feathered, the kind of Minorca, now roost in the garage." 
 
 At this point Araminta stood to attention and ordered 
 that English should be spoken, while Sandy, Nora, and 
 Allenbury went to the door and caught choking colds in 
 the draught. 
 
 Jacques was clearly distressed. He hoped to be remem- 
 bered as a faithful servant. 
 
 “ And all I could read that did I," wailed the caretaker. 
 “ The villain letter, where is she ? Nay, but I have her in 
 my mind. Ah, here is a portion." 
 
 Araminta gazed frigidly at the crumpled sheet of note- 
 paper, as she called out triumphantly that the man must 
 be a fool not to have understood. 
 
 “Voila! Messieurs et mesdames — Regardez. Now 
 
 shall I know how ignorant a scholar am I." He read 
 slowly and painfully, holding the letter up so that its 
 words were clearly visible. 
 
 “Nous auron besoin des poulets du cause de nous 
 sommes en dool — quand nous arrivons a la maison de mon 
 oncle mort. Nous resterons dedons la maison. Prepares 
 toutes vos lits pour nous avec drapeau seccouer." 
 
 Jacques waved the letter wildly. 
 
 “ Monsieur, in obedience have I bought flags of various 
 countries, and they now lie upon the beds " 
 
 Nora leant against Sandy and wiped her eyes. 
 
 “ There it is, absolutely clear," thundered Araminta, 
 seizing her letter. “ Have you the rooms ready then, man, 
 les chambers a coucher ? ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 79 
 
 Jacques caught a word; he swung open a door off the 
 hall ; he bowed dutifully with a smile. 
 
 “ But, mademoiselle ! ” he said. “ See, this have I done.” 
 The opened door revealed a neat room, containing a bed 
 covered with flags of various nationalities. 
 
 “There are of America, of England, of France,” said 
 Jacques proudly. “ I will now with pleasure shake them 
 myself. And all that can be done will I do. I, Jacques, 
 with all my heart.” 
 
 Chairs were ranged in the salon. Three people, in- 
 capable of containing themselves any longer, fell on to 
 them, to gasp in the throes of helpless laughter, through 
 which Jacques shook the stars and stripes vigorously. 
 Araminta, sulkily aware of some mistake, said “ how 
 curious ” acidly, and Hildebrand wished to know if every 
 one was mad ; while Phillips, who had once spent some 
 years in France, choked respectfully. 
 
 “ But is it that they are not right ? ” murmured Jacques, 
 dropping the flag sadly. “ But see, madame — as I was 
 commanded. Have I then done wrong in the end? ” 
 
 Nora’s laughter had grown painful ; she took the 
 crumpled sheet. “It is secouer, Araminta. You meant 
 dry ” — she gasped — “ and here is soupe, and here words I 
 cannot read. And ” 
 
 “And the name for the keys?” grunted Hildebrand, 
 looking contemptuously at the poor foreigner, who was 
 obliged to gabble in his own language. 
 
 “ And here,” said Nora, following the lines with a 
 shaking forefinger, “ here, oh, Jacques. What is this ? ” 
 
 “ ‘ Si vous avez les clefts gardez avec particularite,’ and, 
 at the end, ‘ N’oublez pas d’avoir un fou, parsque j’aime a 
 regarder des fou tou jours/ Oh ! oh ! ” said Nora faintly. 
 
 “ Ah ! But that ” — Jacques’s face fell — “ that last request 
 of the mademoiselle’s, it was outside my power, messieurs. 
 A person of weak intellects see — even to oblige the niece 
 of my benefactor.” 
 
 “ Ara — Ara — minta ! ” gasped Nora. “ Oh, Araminta ! 
 
8o 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 As — as — there are only flags for you to sleep on, and 
 onion soup for supper, and not even a fool at the stoveside, 
 come back to the hotel before we die of exhaustion.” 
 
 Araminta, flushed with wrath, said she failed to under- 
 stand ; one may make slight grammatical mistakes, she 
 said, but there is no reason for laughter. 
 
 Nora wiped her eyes and looked reproachfully at her 
 husband, who still roared. 
 
 Jacques, bewildered and sorrowful, hinted that he had 
 not offended. 
 
 Five francs had he laid out upon the drapeaux, and to 
 shake was of a simplicity, and the chickens of Minorca 
 black as night 
 
 “ He is mad,” said Araminta — “ mad, Mrs. Acland ” 
 
 “ Dear ! dear!” gurgled Nora. “ Oh, put them all on 
 the bill, Mr. Allenbury.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury took a note grimly. 
 
 “ I cannot see my mistakes,” said Araminta haughtily. 
 
 “You meant sheets, but you wrote flags,” said Nora; 
 “ and there is no r to your souper. Come, we are too 
 weak to search to-night.” 
 
 The cousins were removed unwillingly. Hildebrand 
 ordered breakfast at the villa at nine. Nora, knowing 
 France, smiled as she murmured twelve to Madame 
 Leroux, a pretty, brown-eyed woman, who promised to 
 have dejeuner for them. 
 
 Hildebrand wished suspiciously to know if Nora had 
 mentioned eggs. And also why the deuce the two 
 ignorant fools could not speak plain English, to which 
 Nora wisely returned that after all he could not talk 
 French, and that eggs would no doubt be provided. 
 
 Araminta sat stiffly in the car. 
 
 “ Why had every one laughed, and why had her direc- 
 tions been ignored? It is a plot,” said Araminta darkly. 
 
 “ The French for flags and sheets and shake and to dry 
 are terribly confusing to the poor foreigner,” suggested 
 Nora cheerfully. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 81 
 
 Here she forbade Sandy to laugh any more. 
 
 Miss Mellicombe reddened angrily, and after a pause 
 returned that one often forgot little ends of French, and 
 then, after another pause, as she searched for lost prestige, 
 that, of course, no doubt peasants only understood patois. 
 And, in any case, the words are quite alike, she said, to 
 persons of education. 
 
 “ If I were to write to you, Araminta, to put shakos on 
 my bed, you would not . . . Sandy, you will be ill,” said 
 Mrs. Acland severely. 
 
 “I would not buy Union Jacks,” said Araminta 
 snappily, as the car hummed through the Place de la 
 Concorde. 
 
 Araminta, objecting to a French theatre on the grounds 
 that the Reverend Eustace would place a penance on her 
 when she confessed to him later on, Mr. Allenbury sug- 
 gested duly that they should go to a variety entertainment 
 of extreme mildness. Hildebrand, though imbued by fear 
 of contamination, went with them because he would not 
 let Araminta out of his sight, and two taxis wafted them 
 to the Folies Bergeres. 
 
 Some performing animals upon the stage amused 
 France when it looked at them, followed by a gymnast 
 of extreme skill and dullness, and Araminta settled down 
 to it with a sigh of content. 
 
 “She knew that Mr. Eustace,” she said, “had once 
 engaged performing dogs to amuse the Sunday school, so 
 it must be all right.” 
 
 Hildebrand, on the other hand, remained suspicious. 
 He was as far removed from Araminta as seating space 
 would allow, and he made audible asides to Sandy, 
 referring gloomily to every woman he saw in a term, which 
 in his accent sounded like a co-operative firm which had 
 been captured. On Sandy’s repeated head-shakes he 
 grew easier, and even eloquent when, between the turns, 
 they sat at tables outside to drink coffee and orangeade. 
 
 He thought people must know each other very well, 
 6 
 
82 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 because it reminded him, he said, of a large family party. 
 Every one moving about and quite friendly. 
 
 “ If you,” said Sandy, “were to go up to ” 
 
 “ Sandy ! ” said Nora sharply. 
 
 “ My dear, I was about to observe,” said Sandy mildly. 
 
 “ Well, don’t observe it,” said Nora, relapsing into good 
 humour. 
 
 “ What I was going to tell him,” said Sandy later, “ was 
 that if many people knew each other he might join one of 
 the groups and safely say he had met them at a house 
 party and they had forgotten him.” 
 
 “I am ashamed of you, Sandy,” said Mrs. Acland severely. 
 “ And I would have given the grey mare’s foal to see it,” 
 she added, after a pause. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 An offer, uncle, that we will accept. 
 
 —Richard //. 
 
 H ildebrand hannyside did not take his ty 
 
 complet next morning because he thought early 
 tea in an hotel an unnecessary extravagance. He rang 
 vigorously, without observing the instructions on the bell, 
 so that a pretty femme de chambre discovered him, to his 
 complete surprise, in the surplice-like garment adopted for 
 his slumbers. 
 
 At her sweet remark of “ Monsieur a sonn£,” Hildebrand 
 plunged beneath the bedclothes with a yell, and requested 
 a gar<pong in tones of anguish. 
 
 His bath was completely marred when he inquired its 
 cost, though the ingrained cleanliness of the Saxon made 
 him endure the extravagance. 
 
 He went down to the prettily furnished hall to find 
 Araminta coming from a solid English breakfast of eggs 
 and bacon. 
 
 “ Bacon really made of a pig,” said Araminta in sup- 
 pressed tones, “ for I asked the man if it was not of rabbits 
 and coloured, and he looked quite astonished. 
 
 Sandy and Nora were not dressed until after ten, but 
 they comforted the fuming cousins by offering to start at 
 once for the Villa. 
 
 “I,” said Hildebrand sulkily, “have ordered my er 
 dejournay they call it here — and I am hungry.” 
 
 Sandy said they had all ordered it, and that rolls were 
 undoubtedly not satisfying. 
 
 The end of their quest seemed really near. They grew 
 
 83 
 
8 4 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 cheerfully f elated as they flew along up to the summer 
 greenery of the Bois. 
 
 “ Have you really never,” Sandy asked Hildebrand, 
 “ really never been abroad before ? ” 
 
 “ Except to visit my lamented uncle ; and I came across 
 country by slow trains. I have never left Lesser Cheriton,” 
 said Hildebrand proudly. “ My mother warned me of the 
 temptations of the outer world. In our home we have 
 trees and grass and cows and godliness as the years step 
 by.” 
 
 Sandy absently hummed a verse written by Gilbert — it 
 was something as to a little cot where breezes hum ; and 
 his wife checked his poetic tendencies by remarking that 
 breezes blew and beeses hummed — to which Hildebrand 
 added an audible aside that beeses was not grammar. 
 
 “ And 
 
 “ I wonder, this,” he said. “ I wonder that you care 
 about the will, as, Hildebrand, you want to live out in 
 the world at Northlap Priory.” 
 
 Hildebrand said earnestly that he could make another 
 Lesser Cheriton out of Northlap, with a meeting-house 
 and earnest servants, and in time win the villagers to his 
 community. 
 
 “Oh, coal and things will do that,” said Nora absently, 
 looking out. 
 
 Hildebrand, flushing hotly, said he hoped that per- 
 suasion would do it — and eloquence. 
 
 “ Coals,” said Nora still absently, still looking out. 
 “ They’ll come to your place in the evenings, and attend 
 when they are happy in the morning. I stayed with an 
 aunt who had a fad for mouth-organs once.” 
 
 Hildebrand opened his mouth in faint interrogation. 
 
 “Or was it tuning-forks?” said Nora; “and no 
 harmonium or prayer-books, just like you. Some one 
 used to tell us lots of nasty things and make up prayers 
 between them, you know, as they went along. All just 
 like you, I expect. And then as we came out I heard 
 
SANDY MARRIED 85 
 
 them say that ‘it amuses her Ladyship, it do, and it 
 couldn’t harm a child.’ Just like yours.” 
 
 “ Mrs. Acland,” said Hildebrand heavily, “ if 1 had you 
 just once at Lesser Cheriton, with Mr. Grimes discours- 
 ing. 
 
 “ Oh the saints above preserve me,” said Nora, lapsing 
 into sudden broad Irish. 
 
 Jacques was at the door as they drove up. Bewilder- 
 ment having passed from him, he was completely affable 
 and pleased to see them. 
 
 They went into the neat salon to commence their search. 
 There were two bureaux, and several locked-up drawers 
 in tables ; but Mr. Allenbury had all his late client’s keys. 
 
 It was Hildebrand now who delayed them, as he stood 
 asking for his breakfast — his “ dejoonay.” 
 
 Sandy said it would be ready by one ; and was surprised 
 at that youth’s dismayed expression. 
 
 “But eggs — oofs in French — and bacon,” said Hilde- 
 brand plaintively. “ I cannot starve. I ordered mine here.” 
 
 As it dawned upon them that young Hannyside had 
 really left the hotel with no food to sustain him, Sandy gave 
 hurried directions to Madame Jacques, and during the 
 fitting of the keys a light repast of coffee and rolls was 
 brought in. 
 
 It was half-past twelve when Allenbury began to look 
 grave. They had gone through every paper in the bureaux, 
 finding several there which were eagerly pounced upon. 
 They had broken open one or two places which had no 
 keys to fit them. And there was no will. 
 
 “ He said it was in Paris, and that he was coming to 
 fetch it.” Mr. Allenbury turned a troubled face. “You 
 know, if there is nothing, I don’t know how things will go.” 
 
 The excellent dejeuner provided by the pretty little 
 Frenchwoman, omelette and sole, cutlets, galantines, straw- 
 berries, and cherries — was eaten without appetite by two 
 people. 
 
 “ Monsieur was always particular,” said Madame Leroux 
 
86 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 modestly, “ as sometimes he would sup here following a 
 theatre.” 
 
 The salle a manger had few hiding-places. They looked 
 in the small, neat bedroom which Reginald Hannyside 
 had slept in. They broke open a small desk by his bed. 
 No will could be found. 
 
 There were some letters in the desk ; one commenced 
 and not finished. “ Will call for it in a day or two ; quite 
 safe with ” and no more. 
 
 “ I really begin to fear,” said Mr. Allenbury, “ that my 
 late friend was eccentric — eccentric but not foolish. Not 
 foolish. He said he had left the will here — he, in fact, 
 made it here — that he kept it to add a codicil, which he 
 took instructions for, so as to be sure it was legal ; and 
 then he came home. He said he had left it in safe 
 keeping. I imagined at first at a bank.” 
 
 “We must open the letter Mr. Acland holds,” said Mr. 
 Hildebrand ; “ we must.” 
 
 “We must not,” said Sandy equably, “ until next year. 
 That is a trust to me.” 
 
 “ But if I, as heir, give you leave to,” said Hildebrand, 
 flushing. 
 
 Here Araminta flashed out spitefully that no one knew 
 that he was heir. “ If there’s no will, you’ll get half,” she 
 said ; “less than half. We’ll say, what’s left.” 
 
 “ Half the diamonds,” stormed Hildebrand. 
 
 “ Half the house,” yelped Araminta. 
 
 “ Half the china,” said Hildebrand. 
 
 “ Half the lawyer’s bills,” said Araminta ; “ and a nice 
 thing that will be if there is a sale and a division.” 
 
 Here Mr. Allenbury said politely that in any case he 
 would endeavour to make that part nice, and he ground 
 his teeth faintly. 
 
 “ Phillips,” Sandy called his man," Phillips, is there any- 
 where else to look ? ” 
 
 Phillips coughed discreetly. “ Having been conversing 
 with Jacques, sir,” he said, “Jacques, venez ici ! With 
 
SANDY MARRIED 87 
 
 Jacques, sir, I have discovered that Mr. Hannyside had a 
 lady friend.” 
 
 Araminta, unclamping herself, wished to know if she 
 ought to leave the room. 
 
 “A friend, madame,” said Phillips severely, “Jacques 
 will explain.” 
 
 « But an old friend of great wit and cleverness,” said 
 Jacques, “ and confidante to all monsieur’s affairs. Madame 
 de l’Araine she was here, oh, but often for the English five 
 o’clock after the races. She, and monsieur her husband 
 the Comte.” 
 
 “Rest assured, Araminta,” said Nora, “Monsieur the 
 Comte also came.” -s. 
 
 But the kernel of the information was, that just before 
 Monsieur Hannyside had left for England, Jacques had 
 seen him give a sealed packet to madame and her husband. 
 
 “ ‘ As you have scolded me for only locking it up in that 
 drawer,’ he said, ‘ put it in your safe for me. I will leave 
 it here, for I may think of another codicil before I come 
 again.’ And at this, monsieur laughed,” said Jacques, “ as 
 a boy might.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury twirled the leaves of a telephone book 
 feverishly, De l’Araine— he got the number. “ Hola there. 
 What! Madame had crossed to England but two days 
 ago — the address. Yes. Madame had descended at the 
 Hotel Savoy ... in the rue Strand.” 
 
 The ringing up of taxis was almost feverish ; the flight 
 to a telegraph office a swift one. 
 
 “ Make it plain French,” said Hildebrand, with a glance 
 at Araminta, “ plain and simple.” 
 
 It was impolite of Mr. Allenbury to murmur, ‘ Have 
 you the last will of my client’s uncle, but as he said it in 
 French it was more excusable. 
 
 “ English,” he said mildly, “ will without doubt be more 
 intelligible to the Comtesse than my French.” 
 
 It was dinner time before the answer came. 
 
 “ I’ve had the will for months. Seeing death, took it to 
 
88 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 England. Have now posted — registered to you at Northlap. 
 De rAraine.” 
 
 “ Oh, it’s found, it’s found ! ” cried Araminta. “ But, it is 
 sent to you, Mr. Allenbury, to you.” Araminta’s voice was 
 tragical. 
 
 “ Any of my clerks,” said Mr. Allenbury mildly, “ may 
 now open it, and add a codicil, but no doubt they’ll wait 
 for me. A train at nine or ten ? Are we not going to see 
 the best play in Paris now that our anxiety is over? I 
 do not start to-night.” 
 
 Hildebrand, possessed of shrewder sense than Araminta, 
 was not afraid of Allenbury & Allenbury. He grew 
 hilarious on Eau Crystal ; he praised his sole ; waxed 
 enthusiastic over his entree, which was something in a 
 creamy sauce. The others took eggs in a cunningly 
 flavoured jus. 
 
 “ Good things these, Hildebrand ; I don’t like them my- 
 self,” said Sandy, looking at the menu thoughtfully, “ it’s 
 prejudice, but snails always put me . . .” 
 
 “ He’s really feeling it,” said Mr. Allenbury, looking at 
 Hildebrand’s vanishing back. “ Some people will associate 
 them with seedlings and soot.” 
 
 “And gardeners’ heels,” said Nora. “ Poor Hildebrand. 
 He will be so hungry about ten.” 
 
 The majestic reserve with which Hildebrand cloaked 
 himself later did not point to his feeling any emotion save 
 that of sulk. Sandy, in reply to a bitter attack, said meekly 
 that he read French so badly, especially menus, that he 
 could not give warning. 
 
 “ The first time I came to Paris,” he ruminated, “ I pointed 
 out to the waiter that I was not a tailor, or a steel swallower, 
 and he spoke English so indifferently that it took five 
 minutes to make me understand that I had mistaken 
 Anguille for Aiguille.” 
 
 Hildebrand was not to be conciliated. “ If I had not 
 mentioned snails,” he said gloomily. “ And frogs. For 
 all I know they may have been croaking in the soup.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 89 
 
 He sat silent and hungry during a play which he did not 
 understand. Araminta, on the contrary, enjoyed it hugely. 
 “ It was so useful,” she said, “to know French so thoroughly,” 
 and if she had not continued to laugh at the pathetic 
 moment when the hero informed his love of his mother’s 
 death, and his loss of all his fortune, some one might have 
 believed her. 
 
 Sandy and Nora were sorry to leave Paris. They bar- 
 gained for one more day, to see the Salon. Mr. Allenbury 
 helped them with barefaced but cunning untruths con- 
 cerning certain papers he had discovered in the safes. 
 
 Hildebrand looked up at all the statues as lost creatures 
 wrought in marble. He spoke with bated breath of the 
 abandoned artists who had modelled them. 
 
 “ For it could not all have been done from books,” said 
 Hildebrand coldly — staring at a group of nymphs. 
 
 “ Or even memory,” said Allenbury, looking vacantly 
 towards a blameless bust of a celebrity. 
 
 “ Thank Heaven, Nora,” said Sandy as he got into the 
 car at Northlap Station. “ Thank Heaven it is nearly 
 over. I seem to have done nothing but get out at this 
 station for years.” 
 
 Delia met them with the warm joy of her race. She had 
 been left behind in England. 
 
 “ She had learned a lot about racehorses,” she told 
 them, “ being down to the stables below with Misther 
 Watson. Christians they must be, the way he takes on 
 about them,” said Delia. 
 
 The gathering of the clans had commenced again. 
 Cousins of various degrees came flying to Northlap, hoping 
 for a little legacy. 
 
 “ My boy is called Reginald, and is a godson,” said one. 
 “ My little girl got a box of chocolates from him every 
 Christmas,” declared another. “ He never forgot the date ; 
 such a memory.” The lady who hoped for china hovered 
 about the Chelsea figures, wondering which group might 
 be hers. 
 
90 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 The solemn reading of the will was upon them. They 
 gathered into the library, and Mr. Allenbury opened the 
 roll of stiff parchment, covered with legal writing. 
 
 Araminta, in an excellent humour, sat by Nora, whisper- 
 ing to her that she felt sure that Mr. Eustace would now 
 give up all ideas of celibacy. 
 
 “We can do so much,” whispered Araminta, “ with my 
 money ; in fact I shall endeavour to get Arthur to move from 
 the slums.” 
 
 Then silence, Hildebrand having coughed disapprovingly 
 towards Araminta. Summer hummed outside the windows. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury said “hern,” and his eyes twinkled. 
 
 The last will and testament. Lesser matters first. 
 Names of cousins plucked from the legal jargon. Mrs. 
 Hannyside Martin got her Chelsea figures and a Nankin 
 vase as well. Other minor legacies made the cousins sniff 
 angrily. 
 
 Then the testator bequeathed Northlap Priory, etc., etc., 
 to his nephew, Hildebrand Hannyside, and his niece, 
 Araminta Mellicombe. 
 
 The cousins both jumped up — murmuring to both. We — 
 A moment please — Allenbury checked them. There are 
 conditions — listen carefully. 
 
 The bequest carried with it the condition that the 
 Northlap racing stud was to be kept up until a horse run- 
 ning in Hildebrand Hannyside’s name should win the 
 Grand National. Until then, in fact, everything was held in 
 trust. A sum was set apart for the upkeep of the horses — 
 a pension named for the old favourites. 
 
 And old Reginald Hannyside explained that he would 
 not offend the principles of either nephew or niece. Above 
 all they were FREE. For should either refuse to jointly 
 carry on the stud, this one could withdraw and receive ten 
 thousand pounds. Again, they were at liberty to release 
 themselves by marrying each other, in which case the stud 
 and its revenue passed to the charge of Mary Knox, 
 coupled with an allowance of three thousand a year for 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 9i 
 
 extra expenses. In event of the cousins marrying, North- 
 lap and its revenues — depleted by the large sum set aside 
 for the racers — passed to them. 
 
 Watson wiped his forehead and groaned aloud. He was 
 asked to stay on, and a sum of one thousand pounds was 
 to be paid to him when the National was at last won. 
 Miss Mary Knox was for the present to be provided for at 
 the discretion of the co-heirs. It was left to their generosity 
 to continue her allowance. 
 
 There was a long pause. The cousins were standing up 
 now, and the silence was broken by a gurgle from Araminta. 
 
 Allenby looked at them. Some of the contented legatees 
 moved towards Hildebrand, who was purple. 
 
 “ I should advise a cooling drink for young Mr. Hanny- 
 side,” said the lawyer’s voice. “ Smelling salts are, I am 
 told, good for hysteria ; perhaps some lady would get a 
 bottle for Miss Mellicombe, while I proceed.” 
 
 “ Further, Alexander Acland, of Castleknock, Ireland, 
 was sole trustee and co-executor with Mr. Allenbury, and 
 an urgent request was made to him to superintend the 
 racing stables until the National was captured. ‘ It was 
 my life’s hobby. It is my dying request,’ came the words, 
 ‘if my niece and nephew elect to remain at Northlap 
 jointly keeping up my stud, I ask Mr. Acland and his wife 
 to reside there, all expenses being seen to, and when the 
 race is won, the sum of ten thousand pounds — to repay the 
 inconvenience caused by leaving his Irish home— to be 
 handed to the said Alexander Acland if the wishes of the 
 testator are complied with. Also, the little lodge of 
 Glenicurrie, in Scotland, free of rent for ever.’ ” 
 
 “ There are a few minor legacies and directions, said Mr. 
 Allenbury, “which can be passed over now. Yes, Miss 
 Mellicombe ? ” 
 
 For Araminta, pale and haggard, was on her feet. “ You 
 mean to say,” she gasped,” that I — that we — that I — Mr. 
 Eustace’s follower, am to keep up these racehorses ? We 
 won’t do it.” 
 
92 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ Those brutes,” gurgled Hildebrand, “ in my name.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury, folding up the long will, said it was 
 optional. They were not forced to keep the stud. 
 
 Araminta, muttering “ Oh ! Oh ! ” fell stiffly back into 
 her chair and fainted, just as two people bustled in with a 
 syphon of soda and a bottle of smelling salts. She lay stiff 
 and rigid, and a flushed male sympathiser pressed the 
 nozzle so that a refreshing flow of Schweppe’s struck 
 her face with some force, while the lady who found the 
 salts held them up to Hildebrand's nose, in her con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Araminta came to with some show of temper, and Hilde- 
 brand retreated, gasping out words which he ought never 
 to have learnt at Lesser Cheriton. 
 
 “ And in the event,” he cried, “of our both refusing this 
 insult ” 
 
 “ H — m, I have read it, but of course it’s confusing,” said 
 Allenbury wearily. “If you both refuse either to marry or 
 keep up the horses, the bulk of the estate passes to Miss 
 Knox, and a sum of sixty thousand pounds will be divided 
 between you.” 
 
 Araminta was recovering her shrewdness. “ It is the 
 wickedest, most uncharitable will,” she wailed. “ It,” she 
 got up unsteadily, “ was a will put into my good uncle’s 
 head by ” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury tapped his fingers upon the table, his face 
 flushing. 
 
 “ By a dishonest, unscrupulous person,” sniffed Araminta, 
 looking hard at him furiously. “ By some one interested in 
 that Mollie Knox. Where is she ? ” 
 
 Mollie was not there to answer. 
 
 “ Miss Knox has taken a governess’s situation,” said 
 Mr. Allenbury ; “ she found she could not get on in 
 London without an allowance.” 
 
 “ Race horses ! ” sobbed Araminta. 
 
 “ Beasts of Belial ! ” groaned Hildebrand. 
 
 Araminta bowed her head. “ It will, I presume, be my 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 93 
 
 part to undertake the sacrifice,” she said, “my views 
 being wider than Hildebrand’s. I will do it alone.” 
 
 Hildebrand bouncing up said that in this case it was 
 to him a cross and no sin, but he hoped Araminta would 
 not outrage her conscience. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury waited for a lull and asked where the cousins 
 would live until the National was finally won. “ The stable 
 can be kept and Northlap shut up,” he suggested. 
 
 “ If,” said Araminta savagely, “ we make up our minds, 
 if Hildebrand finds his conscience allows him to keep a 
 racing stud we will both live here.” 
 
 “ With, of course, a suitable chaperon,” said Hildebrand 
 hastily. 
 
 “ But Hildebrand cannot do it,” said Miss Mellicombe 
 firmly, “ I see that. He will give up the legacy.” 
 
 Hildebrand observed sulkily that he possessed a heart. 
 
 “ And,” Araminta Mellicombe stood in rigid rage, 
 breathing audibly through her nose. 
 
 “ And I presume,” she said haughtily, “ that your firm 
 continues the paying task of acting for the estate until — 
 until some four-footed beast is first in the race termed the 
 National. The delay is paying for some people, Mr. 
 Allenbury. 
 
 “It is clearly stated as to our continuing to act,” said 
 Allenbury. 
 
 “Then I wish to state,” said Araminta coldly, “that I 
 shall see to every item carefully.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury kept his temper and said he feared 
 they would be varied. “ Special dishes when travelling, 
 snails and other things,” he said smoothly, “ a great many 
 extras will appear in that way.” 
 
 The various cousins rose to step away, so as to enjoy 
 the dispute discreetly from door and window, as Araminta 
 shouted to the gods above that she would not pay for 
 Hildebrand’s snails. “ If we are to be disgraced, con- 
 taminated by association with this stable of horses,” she 
 panted, “ let us be careful.” 
 
94 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ Should you decide to marry,” said the lawyer crisply, 
 “ you cut the gordian knot, and lose a much minor portion 
 of your inheritance.” 
 
 Araminta remarked that her heart was in the keeping of 
 a revered and godly saint. 
 
 Hildebrand spoke gloomily of Miss Susannah Grimes. 
 
 And both talked together rapidly of the worship of 
 images by one, and the absurd fads and nonsense of the 
 other ; Hildebrand exclaimed with hand upraised that he 
 would never marry a wife who fasted on Fridays, and 
 smoked cigarettes and powdered her nose, while Araminta 
 remarked firmly that marriage with a youth who had 
 never until a week ago seen a town, who ate cold supper 
 on Sunday, and looked on a theatre as a place of sin, was 
 obviously impossible to a person of her culture and 
 advanced ideas. 
 
 Sandy had not as yet said a word. He got up slowly 
 at last, and called his wife to the terrace outside the open 
 French window. 
 
 “ Do you quite see,” he said blankly, “ where I come in?” 
 
 Nora looked at him plaintively. 
 
 “ Apparently,” said Sandy, pausing for a moment to 
 listen to the stormy weeping of Miss Mellicombe, who 
 feared to faint again while the syphon was by her side on 
 a table, “ apparently, this means our living over here 
 with these two — er — cousins. Leaving Castleknock, Nora, 
 sitting here waiting for horses to win Nationals.” 
 
 “ But, ten thousand pounds,” said Nora, “and that 
 glorious place in Scotland — that fishing place in Scotland, 
 Sandy, with the gamekeeper lining the banks and a bailiff 
 in every salmon.” 
 
 Sandy interrupted to say : “ Of course the last attrac- 
 tion seemed unique, but ” 
 
 “ It is not unique, it is Scotch ; and don’t you interrupt,” 
 said Nora blightingly. “ Oh Sandy ! ” 
 
 “ But,” Sandy waved his hands — “ what about Hilde- 
 brand and Araminta in every room and, with one party 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 95 
 
 wanting to go esht and the other wesht, to quote Con with 
 the young horses ? And living here, Nora, here, away from 
 Castleknock, for a year, for perhaps two years. The 
 National is not so easily won.” 
 
 Nora picked a rose from the terrace and bit the stalk 
 slowly. “ I fancy that horse Popoff,” she said. “ I do.” 
 
 “ His name is not Popoff, and Watson says he is too 
 small,” returned her husband dolorously. 
 
 “ A little refreshment, sir, and a biscuit,” said Phillips, 
 advancing with a jug and glass upon a tray, the cool clink 
 of wine glugging softly as he came. 
 
 Mr. Acland inquired acridly if Phillips did not know that 
 it was his master’s rule never to drink between meals. 
 
 “ Having heard the will read, sir,” said Phillips apologetic- 
 ally, “from here just outside the window, considered it 
 exceptional, sir. Cider cup, sir,” he said, “ made by my 
 own hands, assisted by Marston’s. Marston is a little 
 uncertain in his mixture, sir, owing to content as a 
 legatee.” 
 
 The cider cup was a concoction in which cider was 
 a faint memory. Sandy sipped some slowly. 
 
 “ Phillips,” he burst out, “ you’ve heard it, what would 
 you do? What would you do? Leave Ireland, come to 
 live here, where the very skies look tidy ? Endure it for a 
 mere legacy I don’t want ? ” 
 
 “But your friend’s request,” said Nora, “ and that place 
 in Scotland, Sandy.” 
 
 “ Great many pennies in a thousand pounds, sir,” said 
 Phillips thoughtfully. “ Almost beyond counting, in fact, 
 sir.” 
 
 Sandy looked at his wife and groaned. He had all he 
 wanted in life, but Nora, he knew, felt there were several 
 arrangements might be made with the ten thousand 
 pounds, and also Nora adored fishing. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury, flushed from annoyance, came out on to 
 the terrace. 
 
 “ Cider cup,” he said thirstily. “ Another tumbler, 
 
9 6 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Phillips. I say, I knew there would be an upset when 
 that will was read. The only thing that troubled him was 
 that he would not be here to see. What,” said Allenbury, 
 “ will you do ? Take it up. I hope and trust.” 
 
 Sandy said nothing. 
 
 “They'll fight,” said Nora, “like the Kilkenny cats.” 
 
 “ They will fight,” said Mr. Allenbury, “ from morning 
 until eve. If Araminta picks a leaf, Hildebrand will say 
 the tree may be his soon. If Hildebrand orders out a 
 motor, Araminta will snap it is the one she meant to 
 choose. Neither will retire for the other, rest assured of 
 that. I envy Watson,” said the lawyer; “I do envy 
 Watson.” 
 
 “In misfortune,” said Sandy, “it is always comforting 
 to think of some one who may suffer more than oneself — 
 one's unhappy self.” 
 
 “ Araminta will order fish dinners on Fridays, and 
 Hildebrand high teas on Sundays,” said the lawyer. 
 
 Here Mrs. Acland interposed blandly that if she 
 stayed on she would have something to say to the 
 housekeeping. 
 
 Allenbury put down his glass and gave way to sudden 
 merriment. “ He thought it out for months,” he said, “ for 
 months. I won't wrong them, he used to say, but my 
 horses shall be kept up. He knew that neither would ever 
 give up a penny they could keep. For God's sake, 
 Acland,” pleaded Mr. Allenbury, “ stay on and help me, 
 because with brokers about and Hildebrand at his worst, 
 and we've been a respectable firm so far. None of us 
 have killed any one.” 
 
 “ What I cannot make out,” said Sandy, “is the lack of 
 provision for that little girl Mollie. Reggie must have 
 known what they would do.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury laughed heartlessly. “ He . . . may not 
 have finished yet,” he said softly. “ She has a place now — 
 in — Ireland. We advised her to take it. At a Mrs. 
 
 Moriarty’s. Ballyveneen is the house.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 97 
 
 Sandy said enthusiastically that Mollie was sweet. 
 
 “ Her father was Irish,” he added, “and the girl is a 
 darling.” 
 
 At this point Araminta, red of eyelid and furious of 
 aspect, came heavily along the terrace, and Hildebrand, 
 sulky and crimson-cheeked, followed her. 
 
 They stood glaring at each other. 
 
 “ 1 have decided/’ said Araminta, “ to waive my personal 
 convictions in my respect for those of the dead. I am 
 willing to await the winning of the Grand National ; but 
 my cousin Hildebrand,” she went on, “is so deeply, really 
 religious, he no doubt ” 
 
 “ He’s dashed if he will,” snarled Hildebrand, sitting 
 down. “ He’s just as much dead to me as he is to you, 
 Araminta, if it comes to that.” 
 
 “ My religion,” said Araminta, “is not narrow-minded — 
 that is, so earnest, that Mr. Eustace will understand.” 
 
 Hildebrand touched the stone balustrades of the terrace 
 as he muttered that so would Miss Grimes. “We’ll just 
 live on here,” he said aggressively ; “ and if you decide to 
 stay, there’ll be Mrs. Acland ; if you don’t, we have 
 cousins.” He looked hopefully at Sandy. A meek and 
 dependent cousin was far more to his mind. 
 
 The look lighted the spirit of opposition which smoulders 
 continually in the heart of man. 
 
 “ I think I too will respect the wishes of the dead,” said 
 Sandy mildly. 
 
 After a pause the cousins began to talk, both at once, 
 and rapidly, both showering abuse on the will, on its iniqui- 
 tous injustice, on the malice and bitterness contained in it. 
 
 “ Knowing we would rather die than marry. Knowing 
 that all horse racing was to me a deadly sin,” wept 
 Araminta, again lapsing into tears. 
 
 “That the very name of the turf stank in my nostrils,” 
 stormed Hildebrand. 
 
 “ But he was advised,” said Araminta tragically ; “ he 
 was advised by a person with an evil, wicked mind . . 
 
 7 
 
9 8 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ About Miss Knox, then,” said Allenbury, swallowing 
 something in his throat, “ and her allowance . . 
 
 As two dogs which snarl at each other, set upon a 
 common enemy, the cousins grew immediately sympathetic 
 when it came to a question of spending money. 
 
 Miss Knox is in a place,” said Araminta. 
 
 “ Fed and well looked after,” added Hildebrand. 
 
 They looked at each other equably. 
 
 “ I thought of say — two pounds a month,” said Araminta. 
 “ An excellent addition for a governess’s income.” 
 
 “Your maid, I fancy, receives that,” said Allenbury 
 slowly. 
 
 Araminta said that this was in addition to salary ; she 
 said it very distinctly so that it might penetrate to a dense 
 brain also ; that Mr. Allenbury must remember that any 
 allowance came directly out of their money, and that if 
 they were to pauperize Miss Knox by a reckless gift 
 of say one hundred yearly, so foolish a person might 
 consider herself independent, give up earning her living, 
 and fall into idle, perhaps bad ways. “ All that then 
 would be upon our consciences,” said Araminta loftily. 
 “Do you not concur, Hildebrand?” 
 
 Hildebrand did not ; he thought twenty pounds yearly 
 — five pounds a quarter — should be sufficient for any young 
 person of simple tastes, but he would be magnanimous and 
 allow the extra two pounds ten. This could be put in 
 writing and was now settled. 
 
 Sandy, looking at the two disagreeable, mean young 
 faces, wondered how much dislike he could manage to feel 
 towards fellow mortals. 
 
 “ With affairs as they are, and with money in abeyance 
 and divided up,” put in Hildebrand, “ the first thing to do 
 is to reduce this establishment. Several housemaids and 
 the footmen can go, also the expensive cook, with ungodly 
 ideas as to hot dinners on the Sabbath ; and as to feeding 
 that fat, useless butler — — ” 
 
 Something or some one seemed to suffer from choking 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 99 
 
 in the room behind them. Sandy looked up and smiled 
 faintly. 
 
 “ One motor-car will be sufficient.” 
 
 Araminta said, acidly, that she meant, if she stayed at 
 Northlap, to have one for herself. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury coughed quietly. “ There is a special 
 provision under the will,” he said, “ that no alteration is to 
 be made in the affairs at Northlap until all affairs are 
 finally settled. It is, if any one lives here, to be kept up 
 as at its present size.” 
 
 “ And the wages? ” snapped Araminta. 
 
 “ I see to,” said Allenbury blandly. 
 
 The various cousins began to gather for tea. Down- 
 stairs, a fat and irate cook received news of the discussion 
 as to their dismissal. 
 
 “ Had a like to choke, I had,” said Marston, as he super- 
 intended the cutting of the sandwiches. “ Not one move 
 out of us, Mrs. Peters, if only to spite them beauties.” 
 
 “ Not one move,” said Mrs. Peters firmly. “ I hope that 
 long she-dragon makes it her business to send me on. 
 But there's ways,” murmured the cook as she took out iced 
 cakes from the cupboard, a there’s ways. Young Mr. 
 Hildebrand has an especial taste in bacon, American hock 
 isn’t over good fried, and there’s a few things Miss Araminta 
 is greedy on too.” 
 
 “ The beauties,” said Marston as he took the laced tea- 
 cloth from the pantry and headed his procession. 
 
 The various cousins were all in fairly good humour with 
 their various legacies ; they murmured confidences to each 
 other, and occasionally sympathized with Araminta, who 
 presided thunderously at the tea-table. 
 
 “ You will tell the cook from me, Marston, the muffins 
 are sodden and quite unfit to eat.” 
 
 “ Mrs. Peters, madam,” said Marston, “ will make due 
 complaint at Harrod’s Stores. Muffins come down daily, 
 madam.” 
 
 Araminta relapsed into aggrieved silence until sheTang 
 
lOO 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 the bell to complain to Phillips, who answered, of the 
 plum-cake, which was unpleasantly heavy. “ This, I 
 presume, did not come from Harrod’s Stores ? ” she 
 snapped. 
 
 “ Certainly not, madam,” said Phillips gravely, lifting up 
 the offending cake. “In fact, only yesterday from the 
 oven, madam, but doubtless the cook’s feelings, madam.” 
 He paused expressively. 
 
 “ Send Marston here,” directed Miss Mellicombe coldly, 
 “ and kindly leave the cake.” 
 
 Sandy strolled to the rose garden with his wife. His 
 habitually cheery little face was wrapped in gloom. 
 
 “How, how are we to do it, Nora?” he said. “How? 
 This is only June.” 
 
 “ We’ll send them off for a little and we’ll get off for a 
 little,” said Nora, “and with the children and a dog or two 
 it won’t be so bad. Besides ’’—she bent forward — “ I have 
 ideas, Sandy, in my head.” 
 
 Sandy said “ Indeed ! ” patiently, adding polite inquiry 
 as to where they generally came. 
 
 “ Some people,” said Mrs. Acland, “ have no heads to 
 put them in. I am going down to see the racers, Sandy ; 
 come with me.” 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 Is it possible disdain should die ? 
 
 — Much Ado About Nothing . 
 
 N ORA ACLAND walked across to the stables 
 wrapped in a silence which made Sandy anxious. 
 There was an air of sadness about the place, the helpers 
 muttered to each other instead of doing their work. The 
 spirit of the man who had loved his horses seemed to 
 hover about the yards. 
 
 As Sandy and his wife walked briskly in they saw 
 Delia, with slightly heightened colour, endeavour to whisk 
 out of sight round a corner, and then stop as if she had 
 never thought of it. 
 
 Mr. Watson appeared, a moment later, from a stable. 
 
 “ The cook above, ma’am,” explained Delia, “ has me 
 sent down for some eggs. She bein’ short/’ 
 
 “ Yes,” said Mrs. Acland cheerfully. “ Yes, Delia.” 
 
 “ And Mr. Watson havin’ the grandest speckedly hens,” 
 went on the hand-maiden. “ So I ran across.” 
 
 Mrs. Acland smiled even more cheerily. Watson was 
 subdued, less superior and more human. He honestly 
 missed his master. He felt lost under the new ownership. 
 
 “ Sad, sir,” he said drearily. “ Sad. And I wouldn't 
 stay with them two, even for the extra legacy which I 
 get with a win, but he would not like me to leave the 
 Fancy, and so I’ll see it out There’ll be changes, sir.” 
 Sandy was explaining quietly that the stable was to run 
 on its old lines, without stint or hindrance, when Miss 
 Mellicombe stalked majestically under the arched gate- 
 way, her cousin Hildebrand by her side. 
 
 “ Watson,” she said sharply. 
 
 IOI 
 
102 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Watson shut a stable door and came slowly across the 
 yard. 
 
 “ We have decided/’ sard Araminta, “ that there must be 
 a great deal of waste here, and we wish to go through it all 
 with you, Watson. Every penny spent upon these stables 
 comes out of our inheritance/’ groaned Araminta bitterly. 
 
 “ Each shilling saved, is so much to us,” said Hilde- 
 brand. 
 
 Mr. Watson chewed a straw thoughtfully, he made no 
 comment, the horses were getting their evening feed. 
 Hildebrand entered a stable and wished to know what was 
 done with what was left if an animal was not hungry. 
 Watson said “ Hens,” laconically, “ and chickens, an* ” 
 
 Araminta and Hildebrand could always agree when 
 they wished to — they ejaculated “Not our hens,” simul- 
 taneously. Then they explained to Mr. Watson, that for 
 the future all oats left over were to be collected and dried 
 and used again. 
 
 “ Principal of a naughty child ’as the fat or the meat, 
 miss,” said Watson. “ Not suitable for race ’orses, Miss 
 Mellicombe.” 
 
 Araminta barked out that her orders were to be taken 
 and obeyed. Mr. Watson coughed and sighed. He made 
 a note of it with a sudden twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 “ When this godless race is over and won,” observed 
 Hildebrand, “ I shall turn these stables into something 
 useful. The shed would make a parish hall, and no doubt 
 some farmers would take the stables for cattle-stands and 
 pay for them.” 
 
 “ If they are ever yours,” snapped Araminta. 
 
 “ There are some horses, sir,” said Watson to Sandy, 
 “ I have my eye on. I’ve heard a five-year-old by 
 Hackler is running well in Ireland, and in three or four 
 years’ time we might find him useful. Then there’s a two- 
 year-old, the Hackler horse — Hack Car, is going cheap — 
 they’ll take eight hundred.” 
 
 Araminta showed symptoms of choking. She wished to 
 
SANDY MARRIED 103 
 
 know when she recovered why any more horses should 
 ever be wanted. 
 
 “ To go on trying, madam/* said Watson curtly. “ Mr. 
 Acland will understand, and it is in his hands. Mr. Hanny- 
 side tried for twenty years, madam.” 
 
 “ For twenty years.** Araminta sat down on a wheel- 
 barrow. “ So much money wasted each day, each month 
 on these guzzling brutes — these unwanted horses. These 
 useless, horrible things not wanted any more now there's 
 petrol,” almost sobbed Araminta. 
 
 " These snares of the devil,” groaned Hildebrand. “ I 
 understood that the race must be secured next year by 
 Red Fancy.” 
 
 “ Sometimes about twenty-three other horses go out for 
 the National, and out of these perhaps six finish,” said Sandy 
 mildly. “ Cheer up, Hildebrand, think of watching your 
 own horse out for the cross country blue riband ; think of 
 the parade.” 
 
 Araminta raised her hands in protest, and the barrow 
 tipped up. Hildebrand and Watson picked the wrathful 
 lady from the ground and Sandy left. 
 
 He heard Araminta declaiming loudly that it was all 
 the fault of these beastly racehorses, for without them 
 there would have been no barrows. 
 
 The old favourites were summering in big loose boxes, 
 looking on to a shady paddock. There was even an 
 artificial stream turned on where the horses could stand in 
 the running water. 
 
 Sandy sat down on a bank and looked at the old horses, 
 but his mind did not tune with the peace of the June day. 
 He kept humming a little monologue to himself, half 
 unconsciously. 
 
 “ I see nothing,’* observed Nora, who had followed him, 
 “ to sing songs about, Sandy, and as for odes to these two.” 
 Sandy, suddenly becoming aware that his theme was 
 merely “Ar — a — mint — aa, Hil — dee — brand,” stopped 
 and blushed. 
 
io4 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ They won’t go out of my head,” he said mournfully. 
 “If they were Jack and Jill or Sam and Sue, but 
 Ar — a — mint — aa, Hil — dee — brand.” 
 
 “That will do, Sandy,” said his wife firmly. “It 
 will do.” 
 
 “ Have you considered,” Sandy went on, “ how, if we 
 take up this affair, how many times we shall repeat 
 their names in ten years ? ” 
 
 “ Ten thousand pounds,” murmured Nora. 
 
 “ Peace,” said Sandy. 
 
 “ And — the white trout,” said Nora briskly. “ And 
 contingencies. They’ll never last at it. I have hopes. 
 They are reproving the stable boys now for not going to 
 church. I left them at it.” Nora opened the paddock- 
 gate. She went up to Ben Nevis, who rubbed his nose 
 against her hand. “ The old dears.” Nora called to Delia 
 to fetch some carrots. “ One wonders if they ever think 
 of their hey-day,” she said ; “ of the parade, the glorious 
 rush away with all the flying, panting life of it, and their 
 hearts ready for the gallop, the great fences flung behind, 
 the struggling on and on, and then, for this poor old boy, 
 the sudden thrill of pain and the limp home, his racing 
 days over. He would have won, they tell me.” 
 
 “ They are coming,” said Sandy tragically. 
 
 “These old beasts at least,” remarked Hildebrand, “can 
 be reduced to hay in winter and no bran or oats. They 
 are not racers. And cheap hay, Watson. The sooner 
 these incubi die the better.” 
 
 Mr. Watson breathed heavily through his nose ; he looked 
 at Sandy. 
 
 “We’ll buy that Irish horse,” said Sandy cheerfully; 
 “ and that two-year-old. And — sorry to disappoint you, 
 Hildebrand, but the feeding here will be unaltered. This 
 is my show.” 
 
 “ On my money,” panted the fat youth. “ A nice plot, 
 I call it.” 
 
 “ The only carrots I could lay me hands to,” said Delia, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 io5 
 
 as she returned, “ was these little red ones grown in the 
 patch of garding.” She had filled the skirt of her dress 
 with small red carrots. Watson sighed resignedly. They 
 were a vegetable he was fond of. 
 
 Nora fed the horses, and remarked, apropos of nothing, 
 that she did not believe any young horses trained in Eng- 
 land did good in chases. “ It's the climate/ ” she said, “or 
 something. Now, if you had this stud at Castleknock, 
 Mr. Watson.” 
 
 Sandy jumped. Watson laughed sardonically. 
 
 “ Where there is no oats an’ no straw, but what comes 
 from it,” he said illogically, “ an’ all things inferior.” 
 
 Delia raised her pretty face with battle flagged upon it. 
 Nora drew the other people away. 
 
 “ The finest races ever ye clapped eyes on,” said Delia 
 fiercely. “ I tell ye — with crowds so thick ye cannot see 
 the grass, an’ Aunt Sallys, an' three-card men that is as 
 big rogues as any English. Me cousin Mikkelo an’ me- 
 self — I tell ye, he has the eye for the racers.” 
 
 Watson said “indeed” slowly. 
 
 “ The missus lets me off for Cara reg’lar. Lasht time I 
 med five shillen. There isn’t a horse he does not know. 
 He was talkin’ of the Red Fancy only last February ; but 
 he is likely to fall, says Mikkelo, says he, and ye see he 
 knew. He heard for a fact that he was no lepper. Ye 
 wouldn’t be comparin’ Ireland to this, surely.” 
 
 “ I — would — not,” observed the trainer. “ A lot of fourth- 
 rate animals, all out to run crooked. Pah ! And ... ah ! 
 . . . this My Keelo ? ” 
 
 “ Mikkelo,” corrected Delia. “ He is a scholar, he writes 
 to me.” 
 
 “You would really like,” said Watson, “to live in an 
 Irish cabin, Miss Flaherty, and keep pigs? I understand 
 pigs are always kept.” 
 
 Delia’s face lighted up. “If I breathed the worrd to 
 Miss Mellicum,” she said, “ wouldn’t they be great here for 
 the bran and oats that’s left, that she begrudges, an’ 
 
io6 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 spare sthables in plenty.” Watson groaned. “ I’m countin’ 
 the hours, Misther Watson, till I see a land that isn’t all 
 orther agin. I declare the very grass has the law on its 
 mind over here. If ye but saw Ireland,” she repeated wist- 
 fully. “ Maybe there isn’t posies on the walls an’ bricks, 
 but there’s life.” 
 
 Mr. Watson said “also pigs and boys,” gloomily. He 
 saw Delia to the gate, and remembering the eggs, asked 
 her if she would have them. 
 
 To which Delia replied briefly, “ Eggs, where are ye?” — 
 an’ was it likely she was to say she was asked down to see 
 the horses and pick roses off the walls. 
 
 Watson suddenly remembered an urgent message for 
 Sandy ; he walked with Delia to the Priory. Nora sitting 
 in the garden saw the two pass in. 
 
 “We shall get these horses to Ireland yet,” she said to 
 Sandy. 
 
 Sandy shook his head. His stewardship would not 
 weigh heavily upon him then. He could not think of 
 it. Leave Northlap, with its electric light, hot water, 
 its sheds and cottages! Was Nora crazy to dream of 
 Watson ever consenting, ever agreeing, of any one giving 
 consent ? 
 
 “Watson may want to go. Wait and see,” said Nora. 
 
 Things went on after the funeral with the smoothness of 
 a rock rolling down a steep mountain. Hildebrand and 
 Araminta made up their minds to sulk and fight with each 
 other. Their injuries, when they began to nurse them, 
 grew huger than ever. They decided mutually that it was 
 a plot, and then fought with each other because it was so. 
 The only time they agreed was when they wished to annoy 
 any one else, or in their rooted dislike to having the 
 Aclands at Northlap. 
 
 Araminta urged the joys of Ireland upon Nora, and 
 talked of a cousin, Mrs. Hannyside, who would come to 
 play propriety. Mrs. Acland’s denseness was almost curious. 
 She never saw anything. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 107 
 
 “ A worthy lady who would be glad of free living here,” 
 said Araminta coldly. “ It is really cruel to keep you 
 away from home, Mrs. Acland.” 
 
 “ Sandy,” said Nora sweetly, “ must stay with the horses, 
 wherever they are. Of course, if we could take them to 
 Ireland, we could go and leave you here.” 
 
 Here Miss Mellicombe wondered snappily why a rich 
 man should crave for a few pounds, and she rang the bell 
 to know what the cook had done with the remains of the 
 cold beef. 
 
 “ Mrs. Acland’s dog, madam,” said Marston urbanely, 
 “ happened to notice it on the table.” 
 
 “ He loves beef,” said Nora absently. “ I think it’s 
 because we whipped him for hunting sheep.” 
 
 To fling oneself daily against the sharp edges of 
 a cliff was Araminta’s mental attitude. Northlap was 
 to be kept up until everything was settled. The bills 
 were paid by Mr. Allenbury, and the cook declined 
 economy. She was blandly humble to Araminta, and she 
 economised at times. Phillips brought a special dish in 
 for his master and mistress’s breakfast, and watched 
 with some pleasure Mr. Hannyside’s effort with fried hock 
 of bacon. 
 
 “ They will drive me crazy,” Nora remarked more than 
 once. “ Araminta went to the greenhouses directing that 
 the stovehouses should not be kept heated ; and now 
 Mr. Allenbury is replacing all the dead plants, and Hilde- 
 brand is raging wildly.” 
 
 The arrival of the Acland children did not increase the 
 harmony. Alexander brought two rabbits, a dormouse, and 
 a guinea pig, which nothing would part him from ; Kath- 
 leen a Persian cat and a canary. The rabbits having been 
 placed on a secluded plot near the library window, escaped 
 with extreme persistence, and the appearance of the largest 
 white one at luncheon sitting on the salad was almost too 
 much for Araminta’s nerves. 
 
 Kathleen was pleased to take a fancy to Hildebrand and 
 
io8 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 to haunt the “ nice fatty man ” with a persistence which all 
 but drove him crazy. She swarmed upon his knee when 
 her shoes were muddy, she petted him with sticky fingers 
 and said he was very like the Dook. 
 
 This remark, made before Hildebrand had found how 
 wearing a child’s friendship can be, made him smile 
 pleasantly and ask what Duke ? 
 
 “ It’s her fat Iceland pony,” said Nora, “ the pale yellow 
 one.” Hildebrand put back the penny he had nearly 
 parted with, and he snorted haughtily. 
 
 Neither cousin would leave the other alone at Northlap 
 to work havoc with the place. Hildebrand advised Ara- 
 minta to listen to the dictates of her conscience, and 
 Araminta tried to work Hildebrand up to resigning, and 
 both fully intended to see the matter out. With a meek 
 married cousin to bully they felt that life might be endured 
 — the presence of Sandy and his wife was an enduring blister 
 to their raw nerves. 
 
 There was one particularly stormy quarrel when Nora 
 and Sandy were going out to luncheon. Araminta counter- 
 manded cutlets and other things and Hildebrand brought 
 in three friends who had called, the presence of one 
 piece of dry salt beef gracing the table. 
 
 “ Mrs. Peters sent us mutting,” said Alexander, telling 
 the tale, “ hot, with tattos on plates, but she said she had 
 nothings more, an’ so we waited till the peoples etted bread 
 an’ butter, an’ dear Hildy looked like Barney when he wants 
 to bite.” Barney was a beloved hairy cur, reluctantly left 
 behind at Castleknock. 
 
 Sandy yearned for his home with a yearning which grew 
 deeper hourly. Nora was cheery with the cheeriness of 
 one who endures the present because there are hopes for 
 the future. She often pitied Hildebrand because he could 
 not keep his stud in Ireland, where the climate would soon 
 produce a winner. 
 
 “ If we had them at Castleknock now,” said Nora, 
 “ Sandy and I could go back there and you two could stay 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 109 
 
 on here until the race was won. There’s the upper yard, 
 you know, big enough for fifty horses, and there hay and 
 oats are so cheap — you’d save in the end.” 
 
 “ Master Acland’s rabbits,” announced an under-gardener 
 at the window, “ have got loose and eaten up a bed of 
 carnations.” 
 
 “ They love carnations,” said Nora absently. “ Alexander, 
 why did you let them out ? Kathleen, don’t climb on 
 Hildebrand’s knee, he doesn’t like it. No, he won’t give 
 you a ride.” Kathleen merely murmured darlin’ Hildy 
 and kissed her tortured friend with a mouth sticky from 
 strawberry juice. 
 
 “ It would all fit in so beautifully,” said Nora cheerily. 
 “ If we could ever manage it. What’s that, Araminta, my 
 children are absolutely spoilt ? They’re not really at home, 
 but there are so many things they are not to do here, and 
 of course they do them, and it’s Hildebrand’s likeness to 
 that pony. Kathleen brought it up and loves it.” 
 
 Mr. Watson was no happier in his yards. He was never 
 free from worrying visits, from criticisms and overseeing. 
 Hildebrand went through accounts and groaned over them, 
 and ordered in oil and liniments and flaxseed from cheap 
 wholesale dealers without consulting Sandy, and then raved 
 because he had to pay for them himself. He wished to 
 know why Red Fancy and Pop-Gun could not live on hay 
 until a few months before the race. 
 
 “ So you wouldn’t like to live in England,” said Watson 
 one day to Delia. 
 
 Delia looked at Mr. Watson’s well-built form and shook 
 her head. 
 
 “ I wouldn’t live here at all,” she said briskly. c< It’s 
 ordther and nateness everywhere. I tell now, there was a 
 gran’ clutch of little chickens above all droopy in a hot run, 
 an’ I did but carry them to a corner of the gardin to get 
 flies and wurrms, and presently out comes one of the young 
 men eager to say they scratched up a whole bed of turnips, 
 that I knew he could set agin in five minnites. He was all 
 
IIO 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 for complainin' me to the head man, but — ” Delia paused. 
 “ He was a dacent bye in his heart," she finished thought- 
 fully, with a blush. 
 
 “ Which under-gardener," said Mr. Watson through 
 clenched teeth, “ and what did he say ? ” 
 
 “ That he’d let me off," said Delia, “ if — well — like me 
 cousin Danny when I let go his pony an’ she ran off and 
 lost the night’s milk." 
 
 Watson said he thought the cousin was Mikkelo. 
 
 “ An’ is it trustin’ to one cousin ye’d have me be," 
 observed Delia, “ with me mother one of fourteen ? But 
 praises be, we are off back to Ireland soon, an’ Marty. . . 
 
 “ Marty ? ’’ said Watson. 
 
 “ That is a cousin by marriage. Marty and Mikkelo is 
 to take me to Cara races. They wrote an . . .” 
 
 “ What shall I do," said Watson, suddenly tragic, 
 “ without Mr. Acland ? They’ll counter-order. They’ll 
 ruin my ’osses. They’ll destroy the stud. It’s not true 
 you’re going ? " 
 
 “ Bring the horses along with us so,” suggested Delia. 
 “ God save us, the missus ! And I that should be mindin’ 
 a skhirt she tore." 
 
 Mrs. Acland did not appear to remember the skirt. She 
 smiled at Delia. She listened to Watson’s wild appeals in 
 silence. 
 
 “ But we cannot always stay here," said Sandy, “and I’ll 
 see there is enough money, and. . . 
 
 Watson sat down almost in tears. He wished to know 
 what could be done. His nerves were giving way. He 
 was getting thin. He was hampered and badgered at 
 every turn. Necessary things were counter-ordered. 
 Hildebrand refused to enter any horses for any race. 
 
 And then as if it had only just dawned upon her, as if 
 Watson himself had suggested the idea, Nora also sat down 
 and sketched a plan. 
 
 A few pounds. Putty, paint, new boards and the old 
 upper yard would be ready at Castleknock. There was 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 hi 
 
 a glorious gallop. Watson would be free from worries. 
 Young horses would grow there as they never did in 
 England. 
 
 As Watson gasped out “ Why, wot, take my ’osses to 
 Ireland, 1 ” and, reeling, put out his hands to clutch the 
 nearest support, which happened to be Delia’s plump 
 shoulder, Nora got up, observing blandly that she had 
 only wanted to help. If it could be done. Mr. Acland 
 would agree, he was not happy at Northlap. “ And you 
 go to pack, Delia,” said Nora carelessly. “ Did you hear 
 that Mikkelo has come in for fifty pounds?” Watson 
 looked at Delia gloomily. 
 
 “ People would no doubt marry on that in Ireland,” he 
 remarked contemptuously, “ an’ think it riches.” 
 
 Mrs. Acland replied that Mikkelo was a good, steady 
 youth, and would make an excellent husband ; the fifty 
 pounds would probably be lost racing. Then she turned 
 to go. Watson stood stroking his clean-shaven lip. Leave 
 Northlap. Take his precious charges to strange bad 
 stables. But peace, liberty were precious things. 
 
 “ If you, you see,” observed Nora, over her shoulder, “ say 
 the gallop is bad here and the horses do not thrive, there 
 is a reason straight away.” 
 
 “ Can’t be done,” murmured Watson. 
 
 “You think of it all yourself, and then make it come 
 from him,” said Sandy. 
 
 “ But, of course, I always meant to do that,” said Nora 
 quietly. 
 
 The Aclands returned to Northlap to find their charges 
 in a particularly aggressive humour. Sandy with cunning, 
 which his wife applauded silently, cheered them up by 
 telling them how bad the Northlap gallop was ; how 
 nothing would change its stickiness in wet weather or 
 brick-like hardness in dry ; how, so far as he could see, 
 on that account alone the horses would never be got fit. 
 Hildebrand fidgeted savagely as he listened. The vista 
 of unending years rolled before him in maddening array. 
 
I 12 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Mr. Hildebrand Hannyside’s Red Fancy. Mr. Hilde- 
 brand Hannyside’s something else. The useless wasting 
 of his money, or comparative poverty if he gave it all up. 
 “ But what then is to be done?” almc-t wailed Hilde- 
 brand, while Araminta murmured “ plots and plotters ” to 
 the flower-filled fireplace. 
 
 Then Sandy spoke of Ireland. Once the horses were 
 there there would be some chance. “ And I should be 
 with them,” said Sandy. “ You could live here, the place 
 is kept up. Mr. Allenbury is coming to dinner. Talk 
 to him.” 
 
 Nora broke in with her description of yard and stables ; 
 with glowing whispers of oats and hay bought for nothing. 
 Of the cheapness of Irish boys if the English youths 
 refused to move. We would mend the stables ourselves,” 
 said Nora, “ remember that, and merely charge rent for 
 them.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury listened with attention. He was weary 
 of strife. When Araminta remarked that it was only 
 another plot, he promptly became an advocate for the 
 move. “ But, Watson,” he said. “ Never.” 
 
 “ Mr. Watson, sir,” said Phillips, “ has come up to see 
 Mr. Acland privately.” 
 
 “ Which includes Mrs. Acland,” said Nora, following 
 Sandy. 
 
 The corridor leading to the library was thickly carpeted. 
 Going along it they heard Delia's voice raised shrilly. 
 
 “ The grandest place ever ye clapped eyes on, lofts ye'd 
 losht in, high and dhry be with lashings of air through 
 the flures. An’ sthables, I tell ye. Wasn’t the missus's 
 grandpapa Masther of the Hunt? An Mikkelo says — 
 God save us the missus ! ” finished Delia, flying out a 
 far door. 
 
 Watson was pale with emotion. A collection of drugs 
 from Northlap had been counter-ordered by Hildebrand, 
 who had sent his own purchases over. A foal was ill, 
 a horse waited dosing, and Mr. Watson said no one could 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 ”3 
 
 stand it. “ If I ’ave to do it without ’dp,” babbled Watson, 
 dropping h’s in his haste. “ Well, I can’t, that’s all. An’ 
 I wouldn’t please them to leave,” he said grimly. “ I beg 
 of you to stay here, sir,” entreated the trainer earnestly. 
 
 “Cross to Ireland and see Castleknock,” said Nora softly. 
 
 Mr. Watson wiped his hot forehead. 
 
 “Come and see,” said Nora. “You could look after 
 Delia, Watson ; she sails badly.” 
 
 Sandy remarked “ bad sailor ” to himself. 
 
 Araminta knocked loudly at the door. “We wish to 
 know, Mr. Acland, if Watson has given notice, because 
 I know of an excellent man who would come for a pound 
 a week, and who trained two horses for a point-to-point.” 
 Watson gritted his teeth. 
 
 “ And, may we not come in, the door is bolted ? 
 Hildebrand has just got an expensive parcel of drugs 
 which he purchased returned by a stable-boy with most 
 of the bottles broken.” 
 
 Watson cheered up visibly. “And Hildebrand is going 
 over quite early to tell that Watson what he thinks. May 
 I not come in ? ” 
 
 “ Not just yet,” said Sandy, eyeing Watson’s purpling 
 visage. “ No ; Watson is not leaving, Araminta, and if 
 he did you’d have to marry Hildebrand in desperation, 
 and you’d never win the race. But we have been talking 
 things over.” 
 
 “ Is Watson there ? ” said Hildebrand. 
 
 Nora pointed to the second door of the library. “ He 
 is not,” she said sweetly as the trainer went out, and 
 a subdued giggle sounded from the passage. 
 
 “ They’d kill me,” said the gloomy voice of Watson 
 outside. 
 
 “To get back to Castleknock,” said Sandy later on, “and 
 to fulfil old Reggie’s wishes, Nora, it’s like a fairy tale.” 
 
 “ I trusted to Delia from the first,” said Nora com- 
 posedly. 
 
 “To Delia?” said Sandy blankly. 
 
 8 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 Are all things well, according as I gave directions ? 
 
 — Henry VI. 
 
 W ATSON remarked, irritably, that he did not see 
 how the thing was possible. “It would take 
 months,” he groaned. 
 
 “ God save ye,” said Delia, appearing through the old 
 gate. “ Wait till Con Dayly and Mikkelo is done with the 
 tar and the whitewash.” 
 
 Mr. Watson sat down upon the old pump trough — the 
 trough which had once received a bailiff in its chill 
 embrace. Con Dayly and Mikkelo were actively engaged 
 with whitewash and buckets of tar. The carpenter from 
 the village whistled a cheery song as he moved about and 
 took observations. There was grass growing up between 
 the paving stones ; the roofs were not innocent of leaks in 
 places ; the walls had shed a stone or two here and there 
 which had not been replaced. 
 
 “ Fine place,” said Phillips, appearing with the bridle of 
 a three-year colt over his arm. “ Nice ’oss this, Mr. 
 Watson.” 
 
 Watson, rising with dignity, replied that the applications 
 of tar and whitewash might be discontinued, also the casual 
 hammering in of tacks, for his horses should not come to 
 catch their deaths in such tumble-down places. He merely 
 looked at the horse with frigid criticism. 
 
 “ Lofts in excellent order,” said Phillips. “ Excellent. 
 Never having been in Ireland before, Mr. Watson, no idea 
 what several brushes and a hammer are capable of. Don’t 
 decide in haste, Mr. Watson.” 
 
 Delia chimed in with the remark that the outside would 
 
SANDY MARRIED 115 
 
 be gleamin’ for all the world like the dribbled snow before 
 you could wink. 
 
 “ Me own cousin bein’ at it,” added Delia, taking her 
 pretty self close to the whitewash bucket and ordering 
 Mikkelo not to be splashin’ her. 
 
 Mr. Watson eyed these two gloomily. 
 
 After some giggling, Mikkelo, appearing to find indoor 
 whitewashing more to his taste, and help necessary, dis- 
 appeared into one of the stables, Delia coquettishly carrying 
 the brush, and, judging from the “ have dones” and “give 
 overs ” which rang through the doorway, work was some- 
 what desultory. 
 
 “The h’insides,” shouted Watson suddenly in a loud 
 voice, advancing stiffly. 
 
 A white shower fell upon Watson’s face, spattering him 
 badly ; with several snowy dabs implanted on a com- 
 plexion flushed to poppy red, he called out warning. 
 
 Delia, appearing with the brush, said, “ Laws, now, Mr. 
 Watson,” modestly. 
 
 “The h’insides,” called out Weston, “ of my stables need 
 not be like that. God bless me, man, do you wish to 
 make the walls glaring white ? ” 
 
 Mikkelo removed his cap to think it over carefully. 
 He then replaced the cap and said “ Begonnes, ’twas the 
 only white colour he ever see in the lime without ye’d tint 
 it,” and he dealt a hearty splash to the wall. 
 
 “ God save us,” put in Dan the carpenter ; “ couldn’t ye 
 lave the lick of tar, Con, till I had the measure med for 
 the new boards ? I have the three bits of string now, 
 ache one above the other, and if I moves one box along 
 I’ll be mixin’ it up in me head.” 
 
 “ Do you not write your measurements down ? ” said 
 Watson, horrified. 
 
 “Write them down, where are ye?” responded Dan 
 peevishly. 
 
 “ Delia.” He peered into the dimness. “ Delia. What’s 
 yourself and Mikkelo afther ? ” 
 
1 16 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ I think,” said Watson, turning, “ that I will see the 
 gallop . . . the prospective gallop. I may remain here.” 
 
 No one could find fault with the huge fields where other 
 chasers had been trained in days gone by. 
 
 Mikkelo, putting down his whitewash brush, promptly 
 followed Phillips and Watson. 
 
 He explained how the minyit he’d have the taste of 
 limewashin* over he’d see to the finces. The missus havin’ 
 been at him already. 
 
 “ There’s thorns galore around,” said Mikkelo, “ though 
 for me meself, I’d say the furry bushes ’d make horses lift 
 their legs more lightsome, and not be doin’ damage agin 
 they fell.” 
 
 “ Does he refer to the gorse?” said Watson, staring at 
 Mikkelo. “ To the gorse on top of the fences ? ” 
 
 Mikkelo returned the stare thoughtfully. 
 
 “ I never minds to seein’ one used,” he said. “ Is it like 
 the whirrly gigs ye’d put up over sheds, or only to be 
 risin’ ? ” 
 
 Watson had pronounced the word gorse in true English 
 fashion, dropping the “ r.” 
 
 “’Tis a good idea — either way,” said Mikkelo, “ to raise 
 a horse in the air. A grand idea, with the goose flappin' 
 an’ quackin’ an’ all.” 
 
 “ Mr. Watson,” said Phillips hastily, “ is asking you if 
 you mean gorse, not goose, not geese, Mikkelo?” 
 
 “ ’Tis furry bushes, I mean,” said Mikkelo stoutly, “ thim 
 away on the furry hill beyond.” 
 
 “ He does mean gorse, then,” said Watson with dignity. 
 
 “ I do not — but bushes,” returned Mikkelo. 
 
 Mr. Watson’s only objection to the gallop was the time 
 the fences would take to make, and he appeared to doubt 
 the assertion of Mikkelo that they’d be sthrapped together 
 in a hour or so. 
 
 “ Barry and Quinslan can be at the cuttin’,” he said, 
 “ and the ould pony won’t be thinkin’ of jibbin’ with that 
 load at her heels down the hill.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 117 
 
 Nora, distinctly anxious, was in the huge lower yard 
 when they came back. The clean smell of tar was heavy 
 on the soft summer air, cartloads of wood, fresh barrels of 
 lime, were being dumped down in odd corners. 
 
 Nora sent Mikkelo in to fetch her gloves, which she had 
 forgotten, and then Delia to find them. Then she asked 
 the trainer if things could be got ready in time. 
 
 “ Not to disappoint a lady and Mr. Acland,” said Wat- 
 son, watching Delia disappear. “ It may do, madam. If 
 you would kindly call back the whitewasher.” 
 
 “ Mikkelo/ ” said Nora, “ Delia will fetch my gloves.” 
 
 Heavily and with extreme dignity Watson gave Mikkelo 
 directions. A buff tint was to be produced, to temper the 
 snowy white, and carefully mixed. 
 
 “ Is it yalley ye’d mean ? ” asked Mikkelo, taking up his 
 brush. 
 
 “ No, buff,” said Watson ; “ buff.” 
 
 Mikkelo mixed a fresh bucket of wash. 
 
 “ There’s great horses cornin’, isn’t there, sir ? ” he asked. 
 “ Ye’ll have the wurld here on a Sunday.” 
 
 Watson observed sincerely that no doubt Mikkelo would 
 see animals such as he had never seen. 
 
 “ If ye’s short of boys,” suggested Mikkelo . . . “call me 
 Mike, sir, if ye lay ye’re tongue to it aisier ... I have a 
 nevvy that ’d match ye. He never grew, an’ he can’t clap 
 his mind to anything but mischief. He should make a 
 great boy after the races,” said Mikkelo enthusiastically. 
 
 Watson said “ Indeed,” drily. 
 
 “ There’s many a wasthrel went to the stables about,” 
 said Mikkelo cheerfully, “ and did as well as the rest. 
 There must be great worry and consideration in it all — 
 with a horse out one day to enjoy himself, an’ the next 
 for bisness, and no one knowin’ but such as yerself.” 
 
 “ Good gracious ! ” said Watson faintly, “ do you imagine 
 that we — er — that my stables runs crooked? You, 
 Mikkelo ! ” 
 
 Mikkelo put the bucket inside the door without a word. 
 
n 8 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 He called loudly to an unseen Con to know where them 
 paints were that come and were never used. Then he 
 turned slowly to the horrified Watson. 
 
 “ Sure. Ye all must be sayin’ that,” he said kindly, 
 lounging off across the yard. “ Where, Con ? In the 
 corner of the turf-house ? ’Tis but natteral for ye,” said 
 Mikkelo, as he vanished. 
 
 Mr. Watson went to the house ponderously. His dignity 
 had been offended. The steward’s old house was being 
 got ready for him ; painters and paperers worked there 
 with leisurely energy. 
 
 Phillips was on the doorstep, putting lunch into the 
 motor. Phillips was faintly offended by the ignoring of 
 his colt, an animal which he had purchased himself as a 
 yearling and which he looked upon as future winner of 
 races. 
 
 “ Mr. Acland,” said Phillips, wishes to know if you will 
 go to Knockmaroo races, Mr. Watson? If so, the small 
 car is at our disposal.” 
 
 “ Anything worth seeing there ? ” Watson inquired. 
 
 “My young horse,” replied Phillips, “ will be winning 
 there next year, the colt I was leading.” 
 
 Mr. Watson replied absently that he didn’t think he 
 would care to go to trotting races ; so he would stay in the 
 yards. 
 
 The empurpling of Phillip’s complexion was not re- 
 lieved by what he would have liked to have said, as Mrs. 
 Acland smothering an active laugh, was on the steps be- 
 hind him. 
 
 “ They are steeplechases,” she said, “ and Phillips’s horse, 
 you know, is quite thoroughbred — the man he bought it 
 from told him so.” 
 
 “ Steeplechases in June,” said Watson, “ over this ground. 
 Wot next ? ” 
 
 But later he went to the races. There was room for 
 Delia in the car : she sat on the step, and the English 
 trainer found that Miss Costello had no idea of presuming 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 it9 
 
 on the quality, so that he was expected to wander outside 
 the tiny stand among refreshment stalls laden with pigs* 
 feet and yellow seed cake and sugar stick, to dodge the 
 throwers at Aunt Sallies, cocoanut shies, and to forget that 
 he was Henry Watson, head trainer at Northlap. 
 
 Delia, finding him absent-minded, tossed her head and 
 vanished. So, being alone, Watson made gloomy entry 
 through a narrow turnstile and said, “ My ’Evens above 
 me,” with pious fervour. Horses of varied quality were 
 being walked in a tiny enclosure which did duty for lawn 
 and paddock and ring. 
 
 When a thundershower fell suddenly, every one who 
 could fit in took refuge in the weighing-room, to Mr. 
 Watson’s surprise and horror. The first race was over 
 when he met Phillips, who introduced him to some friends 
 impressively. 
 
 “ Training next year’s favourite for the National,” said 
 Phillips. “What will be favourite that is — Northlap 
 stables.” 
 
 Mr. Mick Haggerty, a shifty-eyed little man in a dirty 
 check suit, and Mr. Danny Magner, knew all about 
 Northlap and were duly pleased to meet the trainer. They 
 were deeply interested when they heard the horses were 
 being brought to Ireland — even to Castleknock. They 
 marched Watson through the paddock and insisted on 
 treating him to a glass of fiery whisky, which made his 
 head reel. One of them told him confidentially that 
 Rocking Gate, the favourite for the next race, would pro- 
 bably riot be running, so to leave him alone. 
 
 Mr. Watson looked inquiringly at the number board, 
 which duly recorded Rocking Gate among the others. He 
 pointed to it. 
 
 Mr. Magner smiled comprehensively. “ Oh, he’s startin’,” 
 he said, “ but what I mean is will he be runnin’ ? There’s 
 days when a horse is in though he’s out. Painted Cherry 
 ought to be after winnin’ if Rocking Gate is going to be an 
 Also ” 
 
120 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Mr. Watson stroked his brow feverishly. “You mean,’* 
 he began, scarcely following the brogue. 
 
 “ Frindly,” said Danny Hider, smiling softly. “’Tisn’t 
 every horse that starts that’s running Mr. Watson, as you 
 knows well. When yours are out over here the flutter of 
 an eyelid will be sufficient to a friend.” 
 
 Before Mr. Watson gathered the breath to deny with 
 fury that he ran his horses in this fashion, Mr. Magner 
 was gone. 
 
 Sandy tapped the trainer on the shoulder. “ It is a little 
 confusing,” he said sympathetically, “ but you’ll get used to 
 it. Have a bit on Rocking Gate.” 
 
 “ He is not running,” said Watson, jerking the words 
 from a wide open mouth, “ that is, running but not going.” 
 
 “ Extraordinary how you people get into the know,” 
 said Sandy — “in half an hour too. Well, come and look 
 on then.” 
 
 But as they struggled towards the uncovered stand a 
 whisper hissed into Watson’s ear : 
 
 “ He is out after all,” and almost mechanically Watson 
 turned and put two sovereigns on the favourite at evens. 
 
 He was only just in time ; next minute it was Here, I’ll 
 take two to one — the owner’s money had gone on. 
 
 The well-laid-out little course curved outside the railings. 
 “Steeplechases in June,” said Watson, pursuing Sandy 
 with his news. 
 
 All things, even horses out are not certainties. Rocking 
 Gate, a big raking horse, carried his heavy burden promi- 
 nently until the last fence, when a peck lost him two lengths, 
 and Ben Barn, a little black, passed and held the lead. 
 Mr. Watson had his first view of a really bloodthirsty 
 fight to the tune of the uneven yells which can ring from 
 Irish throats. 
 
 “ He has him bate. He has not. Come on, Rocking 
 Gate.” 
 
 Ben Barns, jockey, a little wizened man, bore away to let 
 Rocking Gate come on on the rails. Bore in again with 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 I 2 I 
 
 a whirling whip so hard at work that the bravest horse 
 might have found it difficult to get his nose in front. 
 
 “ My Heavens. He is deliberately keeping the other 
 back/’ gasped Watson. 
 
 Sandy remarked that it was certainly not deliberately, 
 and Ben Barn got his head home first to be promptly 
 objected to. 
 
 “ Howld yer ticket ; he might need it yet,” counselled one 
 of Watson’s new friends. 
 
 “ Might,” said Watson with fine scorn, “ Must ! man.” 
 
 “ But what did he do,” said Magner, “ but punish his own 
 horse honest ? An* that bein’ Marty Iiefferson’s own great 
 game, the breath is like to lave him for the dinth of rage.” 
 Marty Hefferson had ridden the favourite. 
 
 “ Marty says he will surely kill old Jamesey the minnit 
 he has him outside,” said Haggerty coming up. il I 
 wouldn’t say there’d be much between them, though, when 
 it comes to handgrips.” 
 
 “ But ... is no one going to lay information to the 
 police ? ” gasped Watson. 
 
 “ The police^? Where are you ? ” said Magner with fine 
 contempt. Mr. Watson began to think he really did not 
 quite know. Some one bustled up to the waiting bookies. 
 Pay. Pay on Ben Barn came a jubilant chorus. 
 
 “ Objection dismissed,” said Mr. Magner with some 
 regret. “ There’ll be nothin’ out of it but a few marks on 
 Jamesey’s face. Sorry, Watson. Saucy Maid,” he began 
 looking at his card. 
 
 “ I am not betting, thank you ! ” said Watson with great 
 dignity, moving away. 
 
 “ He has a stiffness on him,” remarked Haggerty, “ an’ 
 he’s bitther about the horse. Let ye find out, Martin, if 
 Consy is out for the hurdle race. The right side of the 
 English is better than the wrong, especially when they 
 thrain horses.” 
 
 “ I am going outside, sir, for a time,” said Watson to 
 Sandy, “ to — er — look at the course.” 
 
122 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Outside Watson met Phillips, who was playing roulette 
 with extreme care. Whenever silver money went on red 
 Phillips put sixpence on black, and so forth. He possessed 
 a sublime faith in the skill of the genial Jew who spun the 
 wheel. 
 
 Other games where one backed a mysterious Cock and 
 Feather, or threw pennies to hit certain squares which 
 were invariably missed, were shown to Watson. Three- 
 card men, surrounded by confederates, haughtily refused 
 to take less than gold. There was witchery in their 
 handling of the cards — with the queen always palpable ; 
 in fact a confederate used to turn the corner up, and the 
 guileless player never noticed — until some one risked their 
 gold piece on what appeared to be a certainty for them. 
 It was — of loss. 
 
 “ Cost me two half quids, thinkin’ them softies/’ said 
 Phillips sighing. “ Found out they was Londoners after- 
 wards — so I did.” 
 
 The car held refreshment, liquid and otherwise. It was 
 minded by a shambling tramp, whom Phillips remarked 
 was a great friend of the master’s. They went to lunch. 
 
 “ Will he ever stick those stables, Sandy,” said Neil 
 levers coming up, “your English trainer? The white- 
 wash and the tar and the patches.” Sandy looked firm. 
 He forgot racing as he poured out the sorrows connected 
 with his travels, as he enlarged on Hildebrand and 
 Araminta. “I’ll give him every stable in the yard,” 
 said Sandy, “ to keep him away from those two. Nora’s 
 building him a house like a palace, all new paint, and 
 wall-papers that hit you in the eye ; and, best of all, he’s 
 in love with Delia.” 
 
 “ Mr. Acland,” said a majestic voice. 
 
 Sandy turned to see a portly lady of middle age, 
 magnificently dressed, with gold lorgnette held up as a 
 mark of importance. She was attended by a meek- 
 looking youth of about twenty-five, and a second young 
 fellow, perhaps a year or two older, with nondescript 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 123 
 
 features and impressive bright blue eyes. Dermot Butler 
 was supposed to be exceedingly handsome. He went to 
 London with his mamma twice a year, and was careful 
 to wear the latest fashion in ties, coats, and hats. Dennis, 
 his stepbrother, found it a struggle to get Hasset the tailor 
 to give him credit for a new suit once a year ; even that 
 was only procured by extreme diplomacy, and perhaps a 
 payment of three pounds on account. 
 
 Dennis’s mother had died when he was born, and Mr. 
 Butler’s second wife did not waste any of her large income 
 on the unwanted stepchild. He was in her eyes an idler 
 and a ne’er-do-well. He had failed for the Army, facing 
 the “ exam ” from a cheap school which had never before 
 sent up a candidate direct. He had declined to enter a 
 bank ; so he existed now in a corner of Knockary Castle, 
 farming a little piece of the place which had been left him 
 by an uncle. Dennis’s farming was always full of golden 
 hopes, but the buying of the sheep which could not fail 
 to make money, was put off when he saw a four-year-old 
 which must be worth three hundred — and which wasn’t 
 when it went wrong in the wind. His hunters used to 
 jump into his meadow, and then he wouldn’t turn them 
 out because they looked so happy. Farming languished, 
 but Dennis was undepressible. He rode straight and 
 hard, and he possessed a sense of humour which was his 
 stepmother’s especial cross. 
 
 “ Mr. Acland,” said Mrs. Butler, “ there is a young 
 person. . . . She gave the message to Dennis, but I pro- 
 posed to deliver it myself. A Miss Knox — governess to 
 my nieces, Daisy and Maud ; she says she wishes to speak 
 to you.” 
 
 Sandy said “ Where? ” excitedly, and looked for Nora. 
 
 “ Mr. Butler understood, confidentially, that this young 
 person had had expectations — and been disappointed. 
 Connected with the estate you have been over about,” 
 said the great lady condescendingly. “ She seemed quite 
 put out the other morning at some business arrangement.” 
 
124 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ She might well be,” said Acland briskly. He looked 
 at Dermot Butler, and he forbore to even hint that Molly’s 
 prospects might improve ; for the youth wore a somewhat 
 distressed air, as if he were in enforced captivity. 
 
 “ A pushing young person,” said Edith Butler. “ I have 
 suggested changing her to my sister. She would be quite 
 good looking if she were tidy,” she added magnanimously. 
 “ But the children are foolishly attached, and my sister 
 Netta is a fool.” 
 
 “ She’s out in the wagonette,” said Dennis ; “ the kiddies 
 begged to come and see the jumping. No, Dermot, you 
 needn’t show the way.” 
 
 “You certainly need not, Dermot,” said Mrs. Butler 
 acidly. 
 
 “ I can,” said Dennis. “You back horses instead.” 
 
 “We will put on ten shillings between us, Dermot,” 
 said Dermot’s mother, eyeing the sulky aspect of a perfectly 
 tailored back and sleek head. 
 
 “Ten shillings, Dermot, on anything you fancy. You 
 racing men find out so much,” added Mrs. Butler splendidly. 
 
 Dermot vanished reluctantly into the seething crowd. 
 Mrs. Butler made majestic way to talk to Mrs. levers, 
 mother-in-law of Nora’s sister. Standish Blundell, looking 
 at them as they passed, murmured something concerning 
 double harness to Sandy and Kathleen. 
 
 “ Perfectly matched silken coats; a trifle bad humoured,” 
 said Standish. “ Auburn manes and- ” 
 
 “ That will do, Standish,” said Kathleen severely. “ One 
 is my mother-in-law.” 
 
 “ Faith, that wasn’t her fault,” said Standish, rending 
 the air with one of his brays of laughter. “ If you want 
 Nora, Sandy, she’s coaxing old Ned Hennessy to tell her 
 If Saucy Lass is on the job for the next race ; and he’s as 
 deaf as a post. You get on. It’s down near the winning 
 post. I’ll find Mrs. Acland.” 
 
 He met Nora flying past with two five-shilling pieces 
 displayed in her hand. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 I2 5 
 
 “ He says what’ll bate him’ll win, Dennis,” she cried, 
 “and it’s four to one” 
 
 “ At this rate we shall be millionaires,” said Dennis, 
 extracting half a crown. 
 
 Nora dived through the crowd agilely when she heard 
 Miss Knox was there. They struggled through the now 
 massing people, and the race had begun when they got a 
 little clear. 
 
 “ She’s a real nice little girl,” said Dennis. “ There’s the 
 wagonette now and — ” Dennis remarked that he was blest, 
 in a tone which lacked joy. 
 
 He paused and looked again. 
 
 Miss Knox, waving wildly, was standing on the seat of 
 the carriage. A slim young man in perfectly cut, grey 
 clothes on one side, and on the other the short form of 
 Mr. Alexander Acland. To keep the balance and give 
 each other support it was apparently necessary for the two 
 men to pass their arms behind Molly’s back, and her 
 hands grabbed firm at their shoulders. 
 
 Two little girls, chiefly conspicuous for long hair and 
 legs occupied the remaining space. 
 
 “It’s . . . Dermot!” said Dennis weakly. “If mother 
 saw him.” 
 
 “She does,” said Nora breathlessly. “ She does see.” 
 
 It was at this point that Nora lost control of herself and 
 sat down to laugh upon anything she could find. It 
 happened to be a low stall laden with sugar sticks and 
 buns. Newspaper coverings guarded the wares from the 
 sunshine, and the boy supposed to mind it was cheering 
 the horses to victory. 
 
 Support was required. The space behind the wagonette 
 was now almost clear of the crowds, so that Mrs. Butler, 
 who had missed her son and come to look for him accom- 
 panied by her friend Mrs. levers, had a clear view of his 
 present position. Nora and Dennis were near enough to 
 hear the excited comments from the occupants of the 
 wagonette. 
 
126 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ He’s down,” yelled Sandy, “ Dermot’s Bay is down.” 
 
 “ Saucy Lass,” shrieked the crowd. “ Come on, Saucy 
 Lass.” 
 
 High above the din rose a girl’s clear voice. 
 
 “ I’ve got two shillings on her — oh — hurry, Saucy 
 Lass.” 
 
 The three swayed and danced upon the narrow seat, 
 Mr. Dermot Butler joining in the wild excitement — for at 
 the last hurdle with all the horses in a bunch — Ragmour, 
 the leader, an awkward oversized four-year-old, swerved, 
 refused, and then, jumping sideways, threw two horses 
 over with a crash, unshipped his jockey and bolted him- 
 self, straight for the crowd, which eddied and surged and 
 waved hats as he came. 
 
 The immediate result was the retreat upon the wagonette 
 of a black mass of people, with a force which reft the quiet 
 vehicle from its support and rolled it slightly backwards, 
 and the consequent backward drive, with three simultane- 
 ous yells of Sandy, Mollie Knox, and Dermot Butler over 
 the children and the lunch. 
 
 A great many pairs of boots seemed to be doing active 
 boxing matches with the air, and something sweet and 
 liquid was oozing over the cushions when Mrs. Butler 
 stood still to gaze in horror. 
 
 For a moment she was engulfed by the crowd as they 
 sped for safety, her plumed hat standing with rock-like 
 firmness above the ruck. 
 
 “ My-— my heavens — and . . . even underneath,” gasped 
 the irate lady. 
 
 Now, Mr. Watson ; and Phillips had also been on the 
 fringe of the crowd watching the race. Ragmour elected 
 to charge straight in their direction, so that Watson found 
 himself carried away straw-like in the first rush, and then 
 making for safety with feverish haste. The wagonette 
 was straight before him — he dived under it at the same 
 moment as Eliza Magee, an old and not oversober orange 
 woman, the meeting upsetting the basket of yellow fruit 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 127 
 
 in all directions. Phillips took more discreet cover at the 
 back of the carriage. 
 
 “ I shall die,” said Nora weakly, “ die ! Look at Watson 
 now, and the oranges. Oh, come over closer.” 
 
 Watson was scrambling among a shower of oranges and 
 endeavouring to get out, for Eliza Magee showed distinct 
 symptoms of embracing him. 
 
 The sympathetic murmurs of the crowd arose. 
 
 “ Is it dead ye are in there, Mrs. Magee, ma’am — dead 
 an’ thrampled ? ” 
 
 “ Thanks be to God above an’ the inside cyar, I am not, 
 Patsy. But there is not a bone in me body that is not 
 black an’ blue. Is he cot ? ” 
 
 “ He is not,” said some one, “he is loose sthill an’ the 
 two hindmost heels ov him like a whirrlwind. Jabers ! 
 There he is agin. Have a care. Sthop the vilyin.” 
 
 Watson, terrified by Eliza, dashed out under the step. 
 He was caught in a new rush and flung against the 
 haughtily firm support of Mrs. Butler, to which he clung 
 confusedly, crying on his English gods. 
 
 “ Watson ! ” said a voice. 
 
 “Old Hannyside’s trainer. Here, and look. Good 
 gracious.” 
 
 Mr. Watson looked up to see Mr. Hilyard, an English 
 owner, passing by to his car. He felt his cup was 
 growing full. 
 
 “ Watson ! ” said Hilyard, passing on. “ I thought he 
 was such a steady fellow too. Left in charge, now poor 
 Hannyside’s gone, and look at him.” 
 
 “ Darlin’, to ye, let Mrs. Butler go, an’ give me a hand 
 out,” shrilled Eliza the orange woman. Mr. Watson 
 opened his mouth and shut it without emitting any sounds. 
 He looked at Phillips, who was gravely inspecting the sky. 
 
 “ God save ye,” said Eliza, coming to the perpendicular 
 by the aid of the trainer’s coat tails. “If there’s a thirst 
 on ye there’s oranges an’ plenty on the ground, an’ ye’re 
 welcome.” 
 
128 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ I — shall die,” repeated Nora. 
 
 Amid it all something was winning. Saucy Lass’s 
 name was being shouted to the skies. 
 
 “ He has her bate. She was knocked. She will do it 
 yet.” A last roar followed by silence. 
 
 “ Dermot,” said Mrs. Butler in awful tones, to her son’s 
 patent leather boots. 
 
 Three ruffled heads replaced the various boots ; one of 
 them hatless, but distractingly curly. 
 
 “ Oh, what a shame to push us, and did Saucy Lass win?” 
 said Mollie, clinging to the nearest support, which hap- 
 pened to be Dermot’s neck. 
 
 “ Dermot ! ” said Mrs. Butler again. And then in icy 
 tones, “ I presume the winner of the race is of more 
 importance than your charges, Miss Knox.” 
 
 “ Daisy and Maud, are you dead ? ” asked Mollie 
 anxiously. 
 
 Daisy and Maud came contemptuously from under the 
 body of the wagonette. 
 
 “ We just got out when we saw them coming. We weren’t 
 Silly Bills,” said Maud loftily. “ And oh, Auntie, Dermot 
 fell into my ginger beer.” 
 
 Dermot had compassed this fact, and he had also failed 
 to miss the jam tarts. The shoulders of his grey coat were 
 adorned with spots of yellow apricot jam, and were 
 damped with ginger beer. A large blob of tart adhered to 
 his straw hat. 
 
 “ I have never,” blazed his mother, “ seen such a dis- 
 graceful exhibition. I am surprised at you, Mr. Acland. 
 Most surprised.” 
 
 Sandy, descending slowly, said they had not been able to 
 account for a loose horse. 
 
 “ She — she — had her arms round their necks,” gasped 
 Nora. “Round Dermot’s neck, Dennis. Come on.” 
 
 Dermot’s merriment grew a little faint suddenly. 
 
 Eliza, who had taken refuge under the wagonette, stopped 
 to pick up the fruit that was lost and spilled on her. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 129 
 
 « To search for you everywhere, and to find you here, ’ 
 said Mrs. Butler, breathing hard. “ Oh, my heavens ! ” 
 For at that moment, Ragmour, weary of being chased, came 
 thundering up, and brought himself to an abrupt anchor, 
 with his chest against the wheels and his terrified head 
 poised over Mrs. Butler’s hat. 
 
 Dennis took the bridle and held the horse as he 
 remarked that Dermot would do for a lunch table if he 
 went down on his knees. Mrs. Butler, ordering the guilty 
 Ragmour to be held away from her, did repairs with a 
 pocket handkerchief, greatly troubled by the officious help 
 of Mrs. Magee, the orange woman, who assisted on the 
 other side with what might have been a duster or a dish 
 cloth. 
 
 “ If it had only not been the ginger beer,” said Dermot, 
 peering over at his shoulders. “ Go away woman. 
 
 “ Will I be puttin’ thim tarts back for ye to ate, sir, or 
 will I give thim to the craythers here ? ” said Mrs. Magee 
 unabashed. “ The one that stuck to ye’re hat is as clane as 
 it came out of the oven. Will ye have it, lovey, she said, 
 holding out the remnant of a tart to Daisy, “ seeing all 
 that’s spiled on ye ? ” 
 
 “ But what did win ? ” said Miss Knox, readjusting her 
 blue hat. “ Oh, what did win ? ” 
 
 Sandy examined the board through his glasses and was 
 able to give Saucy Lass’s number. “ Failing objections, 
 he said, “ there will be at least a dozen.” 
 
 “ Then you run and get my money,” said Mollie to 
 Dermot quickly. “You put it on.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler gasped audibly. A governess — a mere paid 
 dependent — was speaking in this fashion to her son and 
 heir. This was a young person who must go. 
 
 “ Mr. Dermot Butler,” she said, “will be escorting me back, 
 Miss Knox, and I fear cannot return with your winnings.” 
 
 “ It will be heaps of time when he’s seen you in,” said 
 Mollie politely. “ There is just a little salad in your pocket, 
 Mr. Butler.” 
 
 9 
 
130 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Mollie became absorbed in a meeting with Nora. It was 
 very difficult to her to remember her position and to speak 
 with the meekness due to it. She stood talking eagerly, 
 asking many questions about her distant cousins, laughing 
 unrestrainedly over their adventures. 
 
 “ We don’t know why he — Mr. Hannyside — did it? ’’said 
 Sandy. 
 
 Mollie laughed a little dismally. “ He promised to leave 
 me independent,” she said, “ but — one never knows. 
 Here, if they get tired of waiting, am I, prospective heiress 
 of a racing stud. I’d rather not tell any one,” she added. 
 “ Not here,” she laughed again. “ A dividend for two pounds 
 arrived this morning,” she went on. “ My allowance is to 
 be paid monthly through Mr. Allenbury. Araminta ex- 
 plained that anything further might make me idle.” 
 
 Mollie listened eagerly when she heard the racers were 
 coming to Ireland. Slipping a little away from the 
 children, she told Nora that she was quite happy at Bally 
 Dermot. “ But she, Mrs. Butler, doesn’t like me,” said 
 Mollie dolefully. “ She comes stalking along and says, ‘ I 
 trust you are attending to your duties, Miss Knox,’ when 
 we are taking lessons in construction by making flagger 
 boats to sail on the lake.” 
 
 Nora looked thoughtfully and somewhat impressively at 
 Dennis Butler, who was removing broken glass from the 
 sandwiches. 
 
 “ He boats a lot there,” said Mollie, “ and the other too 
 - — Dermot — but Dermot can’t pull well.” 
 
 “ Miss Knox,” said Nora to Sandy, as they went back to 
 their motor, “ will not stay long at Bally Dermot. Come, 
 Dennis.” 
 
 Nora had arranged a day for the children to come 
 to lunch. She mentioned it as they got to the car, 
 and showed no surprise when five minutes later Dennis 
 Butler remembered that he had a four-year-old he must 
 show to her, and guilelessly suggested Thursday, as he knew 
 she would be in* 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 131 
 
 “ Has Dermot,” said Mrs. Acland dryly, taking tea from 
 a Thermos, “ got a three-year-old ? ” 
 
 “He. Why?” said Dennis blankly. 
 
 “ He will probably find one on that day,” said Nora, 
 looking fixedly at the sky. 
 
 They drove away placidly, looking at the last race from 
 the road, but Mr. Watson’s sorely tried nerves were again 
 stretched to breaking point. 
 
 Phillips’s selection getting first past the post, he waited to 
 be paid, and the good-humoured, somewhat drunken crowd 
 surged in uneven waves across his path when he wound up 
 the little car. The start was further delayed by Mrs. 
 Magee, who had bathed her bruises in fiery spirit, and now 
 sat upon the step demanding a lift in tones of unruffled 
 good humour. 
 
 Watson’s demands for the aid of the law were put aside 
 in a manner which puzzled and enraged him. 
 
 “ If ye will not let me sit, carry me,” said Mrs. Magee 
 gaily. “ Carry me to the station-house — Englishman 
 dear.” 
 
 “ With her own ass waitin’ on her be the gate,” said a 
 voice. “ Kilt ye’ll be, Eliza, swepin’ through the air. Let 
 ye light down, woman.” 
 
 Whisky had developed obstinacy. Mrs. Magee sat on 
 and chuckled. She proffered bruised oranges — at a reduc- 
 tion to the maddened Mr. Watson. 
 
 “ Suck one — ’twill sweetin ye,” she said blandly. “ The 
 sorra a sthir I’ll sthir. Two a penny now to ye’re darliri’ 
 self.” 
 
 When Phillips swung the car and raced the engine 
 noisily Mrs. Magee said there was magic in it. 
 
 “ Singin’ an splutterin’ inside,” she said, “ robbin’ honest 
 carmen of their dues. Dhrive on, Mr. Phillips.” 
 
 Mr. Watson sat in stony silence as the car bumped its 
 way to the gates. Delia clung outside the stepney to the 
 other dashboard. Mrs. Magee sat blandly flinging witty 
 remarks to those who walked. They made a slow and 
 
I 3 2 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 much-cheered progress to the gates. Eliza giving loud 
 and graphic details of how herself and the Englishman 
 had met familiar under the wagonette — “ and with the love 
 that’s in him he won’t let me from his car now ” — cried 
 Eliza coyly to the crowd, 
 
 A big yellow car nosed past them. Mr. Watson saw 
 that Mr. Hilyard was driving. 
 
 “ My character is gone for ever,” said Watson gloomily. 
 “ If I ever want a job I have no chance of getting one. 
 Shall we have to take her home,” he added ; he almost 
 yelped, “ I cannot ... Hi ! there, policeman. This 
 drunken woman.” 
 
 “ Let that one be ... he is courtin' me dather,” said 
 Eliza Magee happily. “ God save ye, Misther Phillips, that 
 brought me to the ass when I couldn’t thrust me own 
 good legs. Darlin’ to yerself,” she added, lurching off the 
 step and placing three oranges in the brim of Mr. Watson’s 
 felt hat. “ When ye’re own head is reelin’, maybe old 
 Anna Eliza might be cornin’ along with the ass one day.” 
 “Why did you not give her in charge?” snorted Mr. 
 Watson. “ Oh Heaven, what a country.” 
 
 “ But Out of the way you, Tim Flanerty,” said 
 
 Phillips. “If I were to kill you I have two witnesses to 
 prove you were drunk. No use your coming up to say 
 you weren’t. But,” went on Phillips, “ she lives close to 
 our place, decent old person, Mr. Watson ; impossible to 
 be severe on the poor.” 
 
 “ Is it to arrest her ye would ? ” flashed Delia from 
 the step. “A nice jailful you’d have to-night if you took 
 every poor thing that asked for a drive.” 
 
 Mr. Watson thought, as they nosed and twisted past the 
 crowd, that his horse would not leave Northlap after all. 
 
 “ With all the limewash and the tar and all,” said Delia 
 sadly. “ And my cousin Mikkelo half idle except for jobs 
 about the house if ye give it up. . . .” 
 
 “ Is your cousin — er — Mikkelo — a well-to-do person,” 
 asked Watson irrelevantly and snappily. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 i33 
 
 “ He is one of eight, but he has a pig below,” said 
 Delia, “ an' when the old aunt that kapes house for him 
 goes, they’re hopin’ she has a stockin’.” 
 
 “That is — savings,” explained Phillips, and Watson 
 grunted. 
 
 It was a surprise on their return to find the stable 
 destined to Red Fancy painted a lovely rose colour. The 
 word “buff” had been outside Mikkelo’s comprehension, 
 and he said he thought the colour’d match the horse’s name. 
 
 “ Dandy and bright,” said Mikkelo in injured tones. 
 “ Dandy an’ bright, Mishter Watson, to hearten a horse an’ 
 he downhearted afther losin’ his race.” 
 
 Watson went heavily to Phillips’s house. He felt that 
 words were inadequate. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Beauty doth varnish age, as if new born. 
 
 — Love's Labour Lost . 
 
 E VEN licks of paint and whitewash and patches of 
 wood take time to apply. The preparing of the new 
 stables drifted over a busy month. The rearing of the 
 fences was a prolonged task. Both would have been got 
 through in shorter space if Mikkelo had not suffered from 
 perpetual fears that them ejits outside’d be puttin’ up the 
 furry bushes wrong, and laid aside paint pots to rush off 
 to give advice, and if Con Dayly had not strolled in just 
 as often to say that he was waitin’ on a new load of bushes 
 outside, an’ come to see the ways the paintin’ was. 
 
 Sometimes Sandy feared a hitch might arise, and the 
 horror of Northlap and his charges fall on him again. 
 But Watson wrote briefly without hinting of change in his 
 resolution. He ran over often to groan at bits of wood 
 “ sthrapped ” airily over holes, and to reject the old 
 “ matterass ” with which the carpenter had stopped one 
 hole in the loft, the “ wood bein’ out on him and the ould 
 thing going to waste in an outhouse.” 
 
 “The heart in some people might be broke with their 
 fancies,” said Mikkelo contemptuously. “If you met the 
 eye the thrainer threw on me, and I but to say how 
 handy the great big crusher ’d be in the winther when 
 ye were in a hurry to feed the cows. And the big boiler, 
 says I ; there’s many a night the pigs below has to wait. 
 If ye met it, the look,” said Mikkelo, “ I declare ’twould 
 hole iron, ’twas that fierce. These yards will be locked , 
 Mikkelo, says he, and no use is to be made of anything in 
 here, says he — for your dirty cows or pigs, says he, with 
 
 i34 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 *35 
 
 horses worth a fortin’, says he, in the sthables. In my 
 counthry, says he, we use milk pails for milk, says he, an’ 
 not for carryin’ whitewash in, and he thrun a look at the 
 pail I snhapped from Biddy as she crossin’ the yard. 
 We use things in their proper place, says he, very grand 
 like. God help us, ’tis terrible short ye might be often, says 
 I, and that’s the traffic of speech that was betune us. An’ 
 if I did take a loand of this pail, says I, didn’t Biddy borry 
 the paint out ov here, says I, to put a lick on the dairy 
 door, where the dog med bits ov it with his teeth an he 
 afther a rat.” 
 
 Mollie Knox and her charges duly came to luncheon. 
 Mollie was too brave to be sad, but sometimes her lips 
 trembled a little and her grey eyes grew piteous. 
 
 “ I thought I should have had something,” she said, 
 “ I was happy in London, but I could not earn enough to 
 keep me without help.” 
 
 Sandy, touched to the point where a man’s voice grows 
 gruff, replied that Mr. Hannyside had trusted to the 
 generosity of Hildebrand and Araminta. 
 
 “ He didn’t. He knew they never had any,” remarked 
 Mollie directly. “ Araminta writes at least four pages 
 each month about my allowance, and she is down at 
 Northlap every week warning Watson to eschew extrava- 
 gance. No.” Mollie sighed. “ He meant to do some- 
 thing else. People never think they are going to die ; and 
 I must not growl, I was lucky to get a nice place.” 
 
 Nora looked down the avenue. Dennis Butler was 
 
 / 
 
 riding up it on a lengthy, sidling young horse. 
 
 “When they send you away,” she said firmly, “you 
 shall come here to me.” 
 
 “ But why,” asked Mollie blankly, “ should they ? ” 
 
 “ The horse is very hot,” said Dennis’s voice outside. 
 “ May I put him up ? ” 
 
 Nora went down the stone steps to be freely snorted 
 over by the nervous four-year-old. 
 
 “ He might be worth money,” she said critically. 
 
136 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “He might, until he goes wrong.” Dennis jumped off. 
 “ I wait to sell for one month, and out comes the curbs and 
 swish sounds the whistle in just that month. I was never 
 born to be rich,” said Dennis, a little ck warily. “They’ll 
 leave the place away from me to careful Dermot, and I 
 shall grow old on two hundred a year, as I sit on the pile 
 of hopes which I never stop hammering together.” 
 
 But over chickens, and raspberries and cream, Dennis 
 seemed to have forgotten sorrow. He promised his long- 
 legged cousins how, without fail, he would take them 
 fishing on the lake next day. He made further promises 
 as to an excursion to some river which apparently strewed 
 its banks with fossils. Nora looked at him expressively, 
 but she said nothing as these plans were made. 
 
 They played tennis after luncheon, a set in which 
 tennis balls were mysteriously lost, and took most 
 careful hunting for in the long grass outside the wire 
 netting. 
 
 “ With that last one absolutely looking at them from the 
 gravel,” said Norah patiently. “ The girl is not meant to 
 be a governess. She shall come here,” added Mrs. Acland, 
 “ when she leaves.” 
 
 “ If she leaves,” said Sandy mildly. 
 
 “ I said when,” replied his wife, raising her hand at the 
 honk of a motor-horn. “ When,” she repeated firmly. 
 “ Oh, yes, I knew it would be Dermot.” 
 
 Dermot Butler, spotlessly neat in smoke-grey flannels, 
 with a crimson rose starring his buttonhole, had driven 
 Standish Blundell over to see the stables. 
 
 Standish, big and gloomy, pointed to a cane chair. 
 “ Sandy will take me over them,” he said in his deep voice. 
 “ A splash of whitewash would destroy you, Dermot.” 
 Fortunately Dermot carried shoes and racquet in his 
 car. He explained that he did so on principle. They 
 played a new game with a great deal of manipulation in 
 tossing for partners, and Nora found herself engaged in a 
 curious contest, in which Dennis slammed furious drives at 
 
SANDY MARRIED 137 
 
 his stepbrother, and lifted lobs so gently that they almost 
 invariably went out to Miss Knox. 
 
 Dermot removed his pearly-suited person from the net, 
 and took up a position on the back line ; this change 
 following one ball which he only saved himself from by 
 ducking, and another which made a green smudge on his 
 silk shirt. 
 
 “ If you would play tennis instead of hitting boundaries,” 
 said Dennis icily to his step-brother. 
 
 “ He turned his racquet ; I saw him ; he made it 
 ‘smooth’ so as to play with Miss Knox,” confided Dennis 
 to Nora. Nora sighed patiently and without resent- 
 ment, as she remarked that she thought she had observed 
 the juggling. 
 
 Dennis recollected himself and blushed. He waited for 
 the next easy ball and drove it with all his force. 
 
 Dennis, leaping for safety, bumped against his partner, 
 sending her staggering from the court ; his effort to save 
 her brought him unsteadily in her wake, and the ball, 
 whizzing down the path with the velocity of a bullet, met 
 the Honourable Mrs. Butler straight upon her fairly 
 preserved waist, placing her in a sitting position on the 
 gravel, where her sisters governess and her son promptly 
 fell over her. 
 
 The awful tones which announced serious injury quite 
 failed to quell Nora’s untimely laughter. 
 
 Mrs. Butler unravelled herself from the tangle to see her 
 hostess biting tennis balls that she might not shriek, and 
 her stepson lifting Miss Knox from the ground, as he 
 abused Dermot for a clumsy mug. 
 
 “ May I ask ? ” said Mrs. Butler haughtily — no one 
 offered to help her — “ if this is a game of tennis or an 
 unseemly romp ? ” 
 
 “ She might have been hurt,” said Dermot angrily. 
 “You might have hurt Miss Knox with your horseplay.” 
 The treble laughter of Daisy and Maud was quite un- 
 smothered by the shrub they crouched behind. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 138 
 
 Mrs. Butler raged upon the gravel, and it was Standish 
 Blundell who picked her up with the deeply voiced 
 remark that she was growing very humble in herself so 
 low down. 
 
 Mrs. Butler explained wrathfully. Nora laid down a 
 chewed tennis ball, and managed the grave-voiced sym- 
 pathy due for quite five minutes. 
 
 Unappeased, the visitor stalked to a seat. “ My sister,” 
 she said, “ shall hear of this . . . game of tennis ! I per- 
 ceive Miss Knox’s charges, hot and grimy, unnoticed while 
 the young person amuses herself.” 
 
 Mollie, unaware of offence, dusted herself as she came up. 
 
 “ It was all Mr. Dennis’s fault for slamming balls at 
 nowhere,” she said, “ and Mr. Butler’s, because he was 
 afraid — and no— Daisy and Maud, you are not to stand 
 upon your heads. You’ll green them.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler remarked glacially that she was pleased to 
 see that Miss Knox absolutely recalled her pupils’ exist- 
 ence. 
 
 “ I had no idea,” she added, “ that I should find both my 
 sons here.” 
 
 “ They don’t play so badly either,” said Mollie absently. 
 “ Oh, will you swing me, Mr. Butler ? I’d love it.” 
 
 “ The pink room will be the best for her here,” murmured 
 Nora to the teapot. 
 
 Dermot Butler rubbed his sleeve pathetically, and his 
 mother took tea with subdued fury in her heart. She 
 issued stern directions as to her small nieces’ meal. 
 
 “ Not that chocolate cake, Daisy and Maud. Certainly 
 not ; bread and butter. Or, if there is any, sponge cake. 
 There is not ? ” She looked at Nora. 
 
 “ When I do have it for children there is always a tipsy 
 cake for luncheon next day,” said Nora apologetically, 
 “and we hate it.” Nora breathed the words “old cat” to 
 Daisy in fierce aside. 
 
 “ She is,” said Daisy, watching Miss Knox’s ineffectual 
 endeavour to make a giggle into a frown. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 i39 
 
 “ The little girls may eat plain hot cakes if they do not 
 take too many,” said Mrs. Butler heavily. “ What is 
 French for cake, Daisy and Maud ? ” 
 
 When Daisy absently answered Chat, her sister’s sudden 
 burst of laughter had to be concealed under the table, while 
 Miss Knox, staring stonily over her tea-cup, felt that as 
 the relief of diving down to hide her face was denied to her 
 she would probably burst. 
 
 “ The simplest of French words,” said Mrs. Butler loftily. 
 “May I inquire, Miss Knox, what French you impart to 
 your pupils? ” 
 
 “ Daisy,” said Mollie in trembling tones, “ what is 
 cake ? ” 
 
 “ Defendu,” said Daisy, burying her naughty face in her 
 tea-cup. 
 
 Mrs. Butler said nothing ; she merely looked at the 
 shaking governess. But when Mollie had suggested the 
 swing and Nora had whispered to the children that they 
 would find heaps of indigestion cakes in the kitchen, Mrs. 
 Butler turned to the hostess. 
 
 “ The young person once led us to understand that she 
 had had expectations from her cousin,” she said. “ He did 
 not leave her anything ? ” 
 
 “ Nothing,” said Nora sadly. 
 
 “ He . . . found her out before he died,” said Mrs. 
 Butler in awful tones. “ I should like my carriage, 
 Mrs. Acland” 
 
 As they went to ask for it they came upon a happy 
 group near the swing. Daisy and Maud were munching 
 jam tarts, Standish Blundell, large and grave, stood there 
 to them, while both the Butler boys swung Miss Knox to 
 leafy heights in the big swing. 
 
 “ I am not much of a French scholar,” said Standish to 
 the children, “ but I do know cake from cats, and so do . . . 
 Lord keep us,” said Standish, looking round. 
 
 Mrs. Butler passed by in icy silence. 
 
 It was the first of many visits to Castleknock from pretty 
 

 i 4 o SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Mollie, but when this first one was ended Nora looked at 
 Sandy. 
 
 “ There will be trouble,” she said. “ Mrs. Butler will never 
 allow the girl to stay with her sister. And when I have 
 her here, as I mean to ” 
 
 “ Until we see what is in that letter,” said Sandy. 
 
 “ I shall get heartily tired of Dermot,” said Nora thought- 
 fully. “ This place is nearer Castle Butler than Bally 
 Dermot. Oh, Sandy ! that will is going to plague us into 
 gulfs of bothers.” 
 
 “ We’re out of the worst one,” said Sandy cheerily. 
 
 “I wonder?” observed Mrs. Acland, looking at the 
 horizon. “ There are always those beastly steamers,” she 
 added dolefully. 
 
 With all these interludes a new yard sprang into being. 
 Shiny red doors, whitewashed walls, stables reeking 
 cleanly of tar. Sacks of oats began to come from Eng- 
 land. Hay was flung into the new hay barn, the great 
 bins grew full of bran. Sandy went to Cahervalley with a 
 list of many pages for linseed and flax seed, oil, and the 
 countless small things which are necessary to the carefully 
 tended horse. Then came a day when a special train — 
 Mr. Watson insisted on it — came puffing importantly to 
 the platform at Cara, and the chasers, hooded and swaddled 
 and swathed, were unboxed by excited and admiring railway 
 servants. 
 
 “ Is that him? Is that Red Fancy, Denny? That is 
 not ; he is a mare. Maybe that’s him above. What is the 
 name ov that one, young man ? Mercy’s Light ? That 
 was Tom Dayly’s. I calls him to mind well.” 
 
 Watson, fussily dignified, was astounded to hear the per- 
 formances of Mercy’s Light reeled off without a mistake. 
 It made him unbend sufficiently to point out his crack to 
 the station-master. 
 
 “ Barring accidents,” said Watson grandly, “ we ought to 
 have a good chance next year.” 
 
 “ Accidents or the handicapper,” said Crowe shrewdly. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 141 
 
 “ He is a grand med horse sure enough, what ye can see 
 ov him.” 
 
 Red Fancy had fretted on his journey. He was an 
 excitable horse. Watson groaned as he ran his hand over 
 the dark, wet neck. 
 
 “ This means a week over before the race,” he said ; “ a 
 full week if we take the sea like this.” 
 
 Pop-Gun, low and solid, came cool and unruffled from 
 his box, looking round him for something to eat. 
 
 “If that fellow was only fast enough,” said Sandy. “ If 
 he only was.” 
 
 Mr. Watson sniffed. The long string began its journey 
 to Castleknock with almost royal dignity. It passed 
 through the murky purple of a thunderous afternoon — 
 great clouds hanging on the horizon ; long rumbles of 
 thundery sound clearing the heavy air. 
 
 Con, Sandy’s man, had come to show the horses the 
 way, but as Mr. Watson insisted on waiting for his charges 
 at every cross, the progress in the motor was not rapid. 
 
 “ They saw me off,” said Watson. “ They did. Not 
 with the train that is, but they were both down all the day 
 before. Both in a pepper. They said we had no right to 
 bring ’osses to this ’ere wilderness. They’re doubtful of us, 
 Mr. Acland, and mad to be rid of the waiting. Suppose ” 
 — Watson turned a heated face to watch for the coming 
 string — “our ’oss don't win next year, sir. That it goes on 
 as it may from year to year ? ” 
 
 Sandy said thoughtfully that private homes for the 
 insane were excellently managed — “ But if it does,” he 
 added, “ that ten thousand must go to some one else — I’ll 
 give it up.” 
 
 Mr. Watson settled down in an excellent humour. The 
 horses fed well. He was pleased to find the gallop springy 
 and fairly soft. Delia took a pleasing interest in Red 
 Fancy, and came to give him his tea in his new house. 
 An elderly lady in a plaid shawl and a blue apron showed 
 such ability as a maker of hot bread that heavily worded 
 
142 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 warnings concerning their weight had to be delivered to 
 the boys. 
 
 The thunder came with flash and sulphurous gloom, 
 battered and roared, and passed away, muttering, to leave 
 a fresh washed earth and clear blue sky. 
 
 Morning dawned hotly and late July was with them, 
 and the trees had lost their freshness — it was a morning 
 full of stuffy heat. 
 
 Nora took her letters from Delia. When the postman did 
 not wait to see the cows milked — he was unfortunately 
 enamoured of the dairy maid — the post arrived at eight. 
 
 “ Maud bein’ in the four acres to-day Doherty is here to 
 the minnit, and a puss on him as black as the thunder,” 
 confided Delia as she laid down the letters. “ I have your 
 bath filled out, ma’am.” 
 
 “ Sandy ! ” said Mrs. Acland, about half an hour later. 
 Sandy had been up at the new stables. Since the race- 
 horse is doomed to rise with the lark he had seen the 
 horses at their work. “ Sandy,” said Mrs. Acland, “ I 
 knew it would happen.” She cast a letter across the break- 
 fast table. 
 
 Mr. Acland rescued it patiently from a dish of 
 raspberries. 
 
 “ Poor Mollie,” he said when he had finished. 
 
 “She is to come here,” said Nora firmly. “Here? 
 Standish says his aunts want a companion. It’s just like 
 Standish. He’d have a pig to stay if he thought it was 
 starving. But she’s coming here.” 
 
 Sandy said that he thought it was right. “ Because 
 Hannyside liked her better than either of the others,” he 
 said, “ and one never knows what may turn up. If they 
 got tired of waiting.” 
 
 “ There is a tallygram outside,” said Delia’s voice from 
 an upstairs window. “ Have done, Pepper, do not bite the 
 bye. That Pepper,” confided Delia in high staccato to 
 a youth who was raking gravel, “ has a mistaste for 
 tallygrams.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 i43 
 
 “ Telegram, sir/’ said Phillips coming in. “ Sixpence 
 porterage/’ 
 
 Sandy found sixpence with visible reluctance. 
 
 “ Arriving morning mail will explain. Araminta 
 Mellicombe.” 
 
 Nora dropped a boiled egg into the butter. 
 
 “ I can’t have her here,” she cried ; “ I won’t,” she went 
 on almost piteously. 
 
 “ She is coming,” said Sandy stoically. “ She is coming 
 to look after the horses. She is coming. It is now nine 
 and she will be here at eleven.” 
 
 “ Call off Pepper, Marty,” wailed Delia. u The teeth of 
 him is wathering in his head.” 
 
 “ Telegram, sir,” said Phillips. “Sixpence to pay. 
 Strange boy on borrowed bicycle, sir. Appears to expect 
 something for himself, sir, and slight scratch on trouser leg 
 due to Pepper, sir. Two telegrams, sir, too much for 
 Pepper.” 
 
 “ This,” said Sandy, when he had rooted out five pence 
 and directed Phillips to find the rest, “ is from Hildebrand.” 
 
 “ By the pricking of my thumbs,” quoted Nora 
 hysterically. 
 
 “ Arrive Cahervalley, nine thirty to-night, will explain. 
 Hildebrand Hannyside.” 
 
 “ The boy wishes to know, sir, if he should burn his 
 trouser leg,” said Phillips returning. “ The other boy is 
 beginning to think, sir, that he also . . 
 
 “Take them to the raspberry square, Phillips,” said 
 Mrs. Acland patiently. “ And there are a few unripe 
 plums. Summer is such an easy time to arrange about 
 bites.” 
 
 “ Pepper,” said Sandy, looking out, “costs a great deal of 
 fruit in summer. Pepper, come here.” 
 
 Pepper, an engaging Aberdeen, came to make obeisance, 
 with liquidly innocent eyes and a lolling tongue. He 
 drank some milk as a reward for his watchfulness, and 
 then sat in the window to look for the next telegram. 
 
144 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Sandy took up the yellow pieces of paper. Shock had 
 numbed him, but as the depths of the woe began to reveal 
 itself, he became fluently furious. He would not have 
 those two fighting here, making life a misery to him. Inter- 
 fering, economising, fasting. This and more poured out 
 in wrath. 
 
 “ They may not come to stay so very long,” said Mrs. 
 Acland absently. 
 
 “ They. Gracious!” said Sandy, “the butter is all oil 
 and has fallen into my tea and on my clothes.” 
 
 Nora thought, repentantly, that it must have been the 
 hot egg she dropped into it in her agitation. 
 
 “This, you see, is my house,” went on Nora cheerfully. 
 “ And also it is in Ireland. When you have finished those 
 raspberries, children, and have a bad pain, don’t ask me 
 for help, it will be quite your own pain.” 
 
 Nora’s progeny immediately gave up eating raspberries 
 to wonder why one should have to abstain from what one 
 loved best in life. 
 
 “Yes, Mikkelo,” said Sandy to his henchman through 
 the window, “ I’ll come to the steps.” 
 
 “ The whitewash brush and the tar buckets is locked up 
 above,” said Tdikkelo wrathfully, “and afther all I laid me 
 hand to help them. They were too busy, if ye plaze, to 
 find thim same for me. There is a dirty bucket some- 
 wheres, says one Kinnat, says he, but I am goin’ to me 
 brekfust now, says he, an’ then I have bits to clane, says he. 
 And they would not let me in to look myself, for what 
 they has no rights to.” 
 
 Sandy took up the new telephone which ran to the 
 stables ; he requested the immediate finding of the lost 
 bucket. 
 
 “ An’ the brush,” said Mikkelo. “ An’ the brush, sir.” 
 
 “ And the — are you there — brush,” said Sandy. 
 
 “’Twas only an ornary sort of a brush,” said Mikkelo. 
 “ There was no name like that on it. Will ye bawl ornary 
 brush into the box, sir, while ye’re at it ? ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 i45 
 
 Sandy, with heightened colour, went on. “ Hullo, what’s 
 that? Where is the brush ? With the bucket, I fancy.” 
 
 “No, but in a manger,” said Mikkelo. “My, isn’t it 
 wondtherful to be talking up a thing like that? In a 
 manger. Will ye call manger, sir? An’ the sthick to 
 sthir the tar, sir, an’ two pots o’ good paint, an’ a pint of 
 biled oil. They might be usin’ ours for the horses. 
 An’ ” 
 
 “ For goodness’ sake let the man go in and find the 
 things,” roared Sandy into the telephone. 
 
 He had become suddenly aware of subdued laughter 
 behind him, and turned now to see Mollie Knox’s bright 
 face peering from the doorway. 
 
 “I should like,” said Mollie, “to have Hildebrand at 
 that telephone, with Mikkelo directing him what to say.” 
 
 “ Go up and get all your things, Mikkelo, which you 
 most carelessly left behind,” directed Sandy irately. 
 
 “ God save us ! Are they sich robbers that pots and 
 paints is not safe with them above ? ” said Mikkelo, 
 vanishing hurriedly. 
 
 “ In five minutes,” said Sandy, “ he will have got round 
 every stable-boy he meets and have found some job which 
 it is completely essential for him to do in that yard.” 
 
 Mollie sat upon a wooden hall-chair and said dolefully 
 that she was in disgrace. 
 
 “ I only forgot a teeny little bit of time,” said Miss Knox, 
 “while Dermot Butler taught me how to use a paddle in a 
 small punt. But I was late for the children’s tea, and Mrs. 
 Moriarty says that I must go. Mrs. Butler was on the 
 shore when I came in. She says ” — Mollie lapsed into 
 sudden laughter — “ that when she was five she could have 
 taught the children the French for cake. And now I am 
 dismissed.” There was a tremor in Mollie’s voice under 
 its forced gaiety. Her small face looked pale and tired. 
 “ One cannot live on twenty-five pounds a year,” she said. 
 “ The type-writing was never really worth anything ; and 
 I don’t quite know what to do.” 
 
 10 
 
146 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Nora, coming out of the dining-room, said firmly that 
 the future was already mapped out. The pink room was 
 ready, and Miss Knox was to occupy it. Nora explained 
 that she wanted a lady help. The sallow-cheeked little 
 lady who wrestled with the education of Alexander and 
 his sister took no interest in the house. “ Anyhow, 
 you’re coming to me,” said Nora, putting an arm round 
 Mollie’s shoulder, and refusing to see the big tears on the 
 girl’s cheeks. 
 
 “ I — didn’t want to leave Ireland,” gulped Miss Knox, 
 looking steadfastly at a smudge of trees which showed 
 darkly against the clear blue of the sky. 
 
 Nora coughed discreetly ; those particular trees sur- 
 rounded Castle Butler. 
 
 “ I came over,” Mollie explained, “ I explained I had to 
 see Mr. Acland on business. The telegrams, face up- 
 wards, lay on the hall table, the signatures plain to be 
 read. 
 
 “ Hildebrand,” said Mollie, pointing, “ Araminta.” 
 
 The next moment she sat down again upon one of the 
 old crested chairs. 
 
 “ And they are coming here. And they hate me. And, oh, 
 they will never go away until Red Fancy wins,” said Mollie, 
 in the throes of unseemly merriment. “ You say they will, 
 Mr. Acland ; they won’t, I know they won’t. I guessed 
 they meant it from Araminta’s letters to me. I guessed it. 
 Oh dear me,” said Miss Knox, looking out. “ Mr. Dennis 
 Butler is coming to show you another horse.” 
 
 “Or perhaps to see the racehorses,” said Nora dryly. 
 “ And, Phillips, heavens ! it is nearly eleven, and we have 
 forgotten Miss Mellicombe. Phillips ! ” 
 
 Phillips appeared instantaneously. Phillips had ventured 
 to order the outside car to go to Cara, the small motor 
 requiring a new tyre, and the larger some slight adjust- 
 ment. Con and the grey mare are about to start, madam,” 
 said Phillips urbanely. 
 
 “ The grey mare,” said Sandy. “ If she doesn’t lie 
 
SANDY MARRIED i47 
 
 down she may get there and back. He has done it on 
 purpose, Nora.” 
 
 « The car will also be some hours late,” said Nora 
 cheerfully. “ We will have finnan haddocks for lunch, she 
 added. “ It is Friday. Just nice plain finnan haddocks for 
 Araminta to fast on.” 
 
 Towards one o’clock a travel-worn young woman 
 arrived, clinging bitterly to the rail of the jaunting-car. 
 Araminta descended stiffly, calling down vengeance on the 
 inventor of vehicles which carried one along with un- 
 defended limbs exposed to all dangers. 
 
 “ We should have been here before, ma am, apologized 
 Con, “ but the mare got lazy like, an’ the young lady took a 
 fright an’ would not sit up on the cyar.” 
 
 « She lay down,” said Araminta stonily, “ so suddenly 
 that I fell off. It required lighted paper to make her 
 get up.” 
 
 “ But she is such a dear when she does go,” said Nora, 
 patting the grey’s damp neck. “ Well, this is a sudden 
 idea of yours.” 
 
 Araminta apologized with some show of grace. She 
 said she would explain all when she was rested, and 
 that if she was a nuisance she could go on to the nearest 
 hotel. 
 
 Miss Mellicombe, looking warily about her as if she 
 expected to find a moonlighter under the begonias and a 
 policeman in wait among the mignonette, walked up the 
 high stone steps. When, having removed some dust and 
 changed, she came down to luncheon, her attitude to- 
 wards Ireland was one of complete and irritating surprise. 
 The train had been quite fast and good, really nearly as 
 good as some in England on cross-country journeys. 
 There had been a breakfast which had proved eatable. 
 “ I did not perceive any of the nonsensical humour which 
 people write about, and I was actually able to understand 
 their curious accents.” 
 
 “ You did not have potatoes and cabbage for breakfast,” 
 
148 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 said Nora, duly wrathful, “ and all the people are quite 
 ordinary and stupid, oh yes, but wait.” 
 
 “ Mikkelo wants to know, miss, will he carry ye big 
 trunk up or lave it in the box-room, becose if he has to 
 carry it up ’twon’t fit round the turn of the landing,” said 
 Delia from the door. 
 
 “ Then how can it if he cannot ? ” said Araminta 
 snappily. 
 
 “ He has it bathered with the dinth of trying,” said 
 Delia apologetically. “ Himself an’ Con is at it these tin 
 minits. Mikkelo says, miss, he can do up the broke lock 
 himself for ye.” 
 
 Araminta, thundering “ Fools ! ” fled to her much injured 
 luggage. 
 
 “ The trunk which won’t go down the narrow passage 
 does not look like a week-end visit,” said Sandy thought- 
 fully. “ Why in that room, Nora ? ” 
 
 “ It’s so cheerful,” said Nora absently. “ Maria’s dairy 
 is just underneath. Maria always sings when she is at 
 work. She is particularly fond of ‘Two Little Girls in 
 Blue ’ and other high-class music, and her voice is soprano 
 — she has one note in it, it is a false one.” 
 
 “ My new cabin trunk,” said Araminta, fixing plainly 
 expectant eyes upon Nora, “is completely ruined. And 
 the man, he appears to be particularly foolish, merely 
 remarks that if he hadn’t thried if ’twould fit he’d never 
 have known it wouldn’t. I asked him if the house pos- 
 sessed no measures, and he said all thim same were in the 
 sthables for the oats.” 
 
 Nora observed placidly that if Mikkelo could not get 
 up the box no one could, and Phillips announced luncheon ; 
 Miss Mellicombe, recovering her temper again, fell into 
 irritating surprise. The fine old room, the silver ; she 
 really thought the pierced cake-basket was genuine. 
 
 “ And pictures,” said Miss Mellicombe, “ which you’ve 
 never had to sell. Fancy people being painted over 
 here.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 149 
 
 A dish of young ducks was being deftly cut up by 
 Phillips. Kate the parlourmaid handed something in 
 aspic. Miss Mellicombe looked round affably, until Phillips, 
 coming to her first, proffered her a blameless and woolly 
 finnan haddock, unveiled and unadorned. 
 
 “ The only fish we could get,” said Nora. “ Friday, you 
 see. I did not want you to starve.” 
 
 Nora smiled with the virtuous air of the hostess who has 
 done her best and remembered her guest’s weaknesses. 
 
 Araminta put the finnan haddock to one side of her 
 plate, and ate potatoes and spinach gloomily. Spinach at 
 all times is wholesome, but uninteresting. 
 
 “We are so sorry we are late,” said Mollie Knox, “but 
 Watson would show us all the horses.” 
 
 Sandy, who had seen Watson go to his dinner half an 
 hour before, looked up and smiled pleasantly. 
 
 “ And we — er — came back by a long way,” concluded 
 Mollie, seeing the smile. “ Oh, Araminta, you have 
 come ? ” 
 
 Araminta rose to deposit a steel-like peck on Mollie’s 
 cheek. 
 
 “ Your charges ?” said Araminta. “I trust you do not 
 neglect them, Mollie. A governess has a position of 
 responsibility.” 
 
 “ She has,” said Mollie meekly, recognizing the fact that 
 she was being put in her place. 
 
 “ And even a governess with private means must not be 
 careless,” concluded Miss Mellicombe, glaring meaningly 
 at Dennis Butler. 
 
 “ Mince pies, madam ? ” suggested Phillips, at her 
 elbow. 
 
 Now why mince pies should have appeared on a broiling 
 July day was a mystery, even to Nora. She had ordered 
 raspberry tarts. Phillips’s peculiarly bland smile made her 
 look at him suspiciously. 
 
 Araminta took cream-cheese dejectedly. She had, in 
 fact, given up strict fasting, but she feared to say so. 
 
r 5° 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 After raspberries and cream her tolerance returned. 
 She was again astounded at many things. 
 
 Taking Nora aside as they strolled in the luxuriant old- 
 fashioned garden, Araminta made explanation. 
 
 “ She could not,” she said, “ be away from the animal or 
 animals on which her fate depended.” 
 
 She was torn by anxiety, sleepless from strain. So she 
 had followed the stud to Ireland ; she was prepared to 
 pay a reasonable sum for her board, but if this did not 
 meet with Mrs. Acland’s approval, no doubt there were 
 respectable village inns. 
 
 “ A room for myself and my maid,” said Araminta ; 
 “ simple cooking ; I ask no more.” 
 
 “ I have got an idea,” said Nora, “ that Mrs. Cassidy’s 
 public, though she does take in lodgers, would not suit 
 you. You can stay here, Araminta, as long as you want 
 to, the house is a big one. But supposing ” — Nora looked 
 up — “ supposing this National is a failure, and the next, 
 and the next. Better marry Hildebrand and have done 
 with it, my dear.” 
 
 Shrill protestation burst from Miss Mellicombe’s thin 
 lips. Marriage with Hildebrand was impossible. A 
 person of low church tendencies, of quick temper. And 
 also there was the Reverend Eustace, now reconciled to 
 matrimony with a bride who could bring so much to his 
 church. 
 
 “ Hildebrand’s attachment to a Miss Grimes,” snorted 
 Araminta, “ is of course nothing, but mine is implanted in 
 my heart.” 
 
 Araminta stalked ahead, her hands clasped, her eyes 
 peering to heaven. 
 
 “ Have a care ov the wasps’ nest, miss,” said Reidy the 
 gardener. “ Yer foot is in it.” 
 
 Araminta sprang back wildly, flapping at a swarm of 
 golden-bodied insects. 
 
 “Why,” she demanded tartly, “have you not attended 
 to destroying the pests ? ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 151 
 
 “ Myself an' Mikkelo threw a kettle of wather on them 
 but lasht week,” remarked Reidy, stolidly picking peas, 
 “ an' it did but heartin them. But the masther has sinide 
 of possum promised me whin he remembers it.” 
 
 “ I should discharge a gardener who did not remove 
 such things from his garden,” said Araminta, looking back 
 furiously at old Reidy. 
 
 Mollie picked and ate raspberries as if she had not 
 finished a plateful at luncheon. 
 
 “We shall be quite a party,” said Sandy, joining them ; 
 “ the car meets Hildebrand to-night, and Miss Knox comes 
 in a fortnight.” 
 
 “ Meet Hildebrand ! ” Araminta sat down heavily on the 
 nearest thing to her, which happened to be a sack of 
 cabbages, “ like she had, as Reidy put it, finished roostin’ 
 with the good cabbages rowlin’ undther her.” Araminta 
 found voice. 
 
 “ Hildebrand,” she said, “ coming here? Oh why? ” 
 
 “ He too, possibly, wishes to watch the horses,” said 
 Sandy. “ I tell you, Araminta, you are fated not to be 
 parted.” 
 
 Araminta struggled among the crushed cabbages, which 
 billowed at either side of her. She gripped her jet chain 
 and pendent cross almost fiercely. 
 
 “You shall see that,” she said grandly. “ Help me up, 
 please.” 
 
 “ There is not much substance in thim now, as well sit 
 aisy,” remarked Reidy, who had come to look on. “ Thim 
 same were soult to Henessys below, but ye may sit on 
 thim now, Miss, as ye plaze — he would not take them.” 
 
 Araminta, regarding Reidy’s bent back icily, wished 
 to know from his master, “ if the man meant to be 
 impertinent.” 
 
 “The Irish,” said Sandy, “never mean to be imperti- 
 nent.” 
 
 Araminta insisted on stalking through the stables. She 
 spoke feelingly of Hildebrand’s strong religious views, and 
 
1 S 2 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 hinted that before long she might be sole owner of the 
 Northlap stable. 
 
 “ Hildebrand feels it even as I feel it,” said Araminta, 
 “ but I am broader minded. Over here, he will feel it 
 worse than ever. Oh, why is he coming?” 
 
 “ I do not think,” said Sandy firmly, when Araminta had 
 left them, “ that all the ten thousand pounds in the world, 
 or even that lodge in Scotland, could be worth becoming 
 host and hostess to those two.” 
 
 “ Wait and see,” said Nora placidly. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 Look down, you gods, 
 And on this couple drop a . . . crown. 
 
 — Tempest . 
 
 HE meeting of the cousins was one worthy of note. 
 
 When Hildebrand came into the drawing-room and 
 saw a tall figure in jet-strewn grey, he stood with his 
 mouth open for quite a minute. 
 
 Greetings to host and hostess were forgotten as he 
 reproached Araminta bitterly for deception and secretive- 
 ness. He was obliged to come to see his stud, but a lady 
 was driven by no such need. 
 
 Araminta retorted in kind. She remarked acidly that 
 they were Hildebrand’s horses in name only, and she 
 meant to see that her interests were attended to. Further, 
 she said that Hildebrand was a story-teller, as he had 
 spoken of going straight back to Lesser Cheriton, and she 
 at least had truthfully said that she was going to London. 
 
 It was after midnight before the wrathful cousins parted, 
 leaving Sandy and Nora to stare at each other blankly and 
 wonder how they could endure it. 
 
 “They waited to start before they wired, so that we 
 could not stop them,” groaned Sandy. “ Nora, let me give 
 it up.” 
 
 But Nora gently reminded him of a promise given to a 
 dead friend. 
 
 “ You’ve got to see it through for one year, Sandy,” she 
 said ; “ and if luck follows us, just think of Scotland.” 
 
 When Araminta, slightly peevish from listening to 
 “Two Little Girls in Blue,” for over an hour, came to 
 breakfast next day, she found Hildebrand full of the same 
 surprise which had consumed her. 
 
T 54 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Good trains ; no foolish jokes ; Ireland completely ex- 
 aggerated, and so forth. 
 
 Hildebrand’s explanation was with Sandy, but it 
 amounted to practically the same as his cousin’s. It was his 
 duty to be near the horses which he practically owned. 
 
 As Mr. Acland had chosen to move them to Ireland he 
 must to a certain extent take the consequences. 
 
 Hildebrand proffered himself as a second paying guest ; 
 he suggested two pounds per week as ample. 
 
 Sandy nodded unhappily, the peace of his house was 
 passing from him. 
 
 “ Why don’t you marry Araminta ? ” he said wearily. 
 
 Araminta’s protesting utterances were mild before her 
 cousin’s. She was half a Catholic — a faster — an observer 
 of ceremonies — a singer of chants — this to a man who 
 prayed from his heart without a book and trusted for 
 melody to a simple tuning fork. 
 
 “ Also, my affections are engaged,” said Hildebrand 
 loftily. “ Miss Grimes holds them in her hands.” 
 
 “But I thought once her father had seen you reading 
 the Pink ’ Un ,” said Sandy gravely, “and now you’ve a 
 training-stable.” 
 
 “Mr. Grimes,” said Hildebrand, “recognizes the case. 
 Money is always a necessity in married life. Greater 
 Bethel calls for a new meeting-house. He understands.” 
 
 “ The Moye races, sir,” said Mikkelo, appearing suddenly, 
 armed with a pot of paint in one hand and a spade in the 
 other, “ is on to-day. An’ Clanchy’s black mare is sure to 
 win. He pulled the head off him lasht time out. I had it 
 good from his man’s cousin be marriage.” 
 
 “ I had forgotten the races,” said Sandy, getting up. 
 “Will you come to them, Hildebrand?” 
 
 After a great deal of inquiry young Mr. Hannyside 
 thought he would, as they were quite minor races, and 
 he might look on from the course. “ Horse racing in 
 itself was not pernicious,” he said, “ it was paying to see 
 it, and betting, and so forth.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 I S5 
 
 “ Hello ! so you’ve got the two owners here, Sandy,” 
 said Standish Blundell. He had ridden up over the grass 
 on a low biood-like mare, with fired hocks and a 
 sulky eye. 
 
 “An owner of racers, not by choice,” said Hildebrand, 
 hurriedly and pompously. 
 
 “ And no more real owner than I am,” chimed in 
 Araminta snappily from the drawing-room window. 
 “ They’re as much mine as his.” 
 
 Standish stood with his mare’s bridle over his arm, as he 
 introduced himself. “ Want to buy a horse now you are 
 here?” he said. “Can’t live in Ireland without a horse — 
 specially in winter.” 
 
 Standish had heard that Hildebrand was coming. He 
 was never a man to lose much time when he had a horse 
 for sale. 
 
 “ Must ride, must hunt,” said Standish. “ Look such 
 a mug if you don’t, you see. Look at this mare when 
 you want to buy ; five year old, had the irons on, but 
 quite sound, very temperate, doesn’t pull. Let you have 
 her for fifty, and might get twice that for her next spring — 
 your winter’s hunting for nothing.” 
 
 “ Indeed.” Hildebrand looked quite kindly at the black 
 mare. “ If hunting could be arranged in that fashion 
 I should not mind showing myself at your meets.” 
 
 “ Delightful animal for a beginner, sir,” said Phillips, 
 appearing with a motor tyre in his hands. “ Most careful, 
 sir, as to places in fences. Whisky-and-seltzer, sir ? 
 Yes, sir.” 
 
 Standish grinned faintly, and Phillips returned with a 
 small tray in one hand and the motor tyre still in the 
 other. He carried the tray to Standish, who was studying 
 Hildebrand intently. 
 
 “You’d ride thirteen seven,” said Standish gloomily. 
 “ Lots of fat you could get off, of course. Master about, 
 Phillips ? ” 
 
 “ I am not expert in riding horseback,” observed Hilde- 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 156 
 
 brand, looking slightly enviously at BlundelPs easy seat. 
 “ But of course it is quite easy.” 
 
 “ Get up on her,” said Standish, slipping off. 
 
 Without exactly knowing how, Hildebrand found him- 
 self hoisted on the black mare’s back. He was always 
 unduly anxious as to first impressions in a new place. 
 If others hunted, he meant to try to hunt. And he 
 certainly did not wish to show ignorance of sport to this 
 gloomily superior visitor. A sniff from the open window 
 made him sit up stiffly. He took up the thin reins of 
 
 the snaffle-bridle and groped for stirrups several inches 
 too long for him, without remembering that he could take 
 them up. Phillips meanwhile kept up a running chorus of 
 praise. 
 
 “ Exceedingly charming animal, sir. Most becoming, 
 sir ; reliable hunter also.” 
 
 “ Hildebrand, what next?” shrieked Araminta from the 
 window. 
 
 The “ next ” was the gliding advent of a motor through 
 the swing gate and the losing of the Dunlop tyre by 
 Phillips from the steps. As he enlarged on the black 
 mare’s perfections he let the tyre go, so that it bumped 
 downwards and raced across the gravel, to take the black 
 mare with a bump on her hocks. She was a quiet and 
 much-enduring animal, but at five years old she was 
 not proof against surprise. She bounded right up under 
 the steps, dashing Standish’s tumbler from his hands just 
 as he was pouring the whisky in, so that Hildebrand 
 received the contents of the glass all over him. Then 
 with a snort the black mare, wondering what rolled upon 
 her back, wheeled, Hildebrand clinging to her mane, and 
 rushing down the hill, met the motor as it whizzed up. 
 
 Motor and mare stopped simultaneously, the black mare, 
 somewhat weary of vagaries in the heat, flinging her fore 
 legs out with a jerk, almost touching the yellow car. She 
 stopped, but her rider, terrified and confused, shot from 
 his uneasy position on the saddle head foremost into Mrs. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 157 
 
 Butler’s black silken lap, and clung about that lady, as 
 drowning men cling to straws. 
 
 “ Is he hurted, ma’am?” said Kennedy, the chauffeur, 
 turning the car off, as his mistress shrieked for aid. 
 
 “ He is not but frightened,” answered Mikkelo, arriving 
 paint-brush in hand through the shrubs. “ Frighted, the 
 craythur.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler raised her voice and shrieked aloud more 
 loudly. A fervent odour of whisky diffused itself about 
 the car. 
 
 “ At this hour,” stormed Mrs. Butler. “ At this hour. 
 Open the door, Kennedy, and take him away, Standish. 
 Help ! Mr. Acland. Is this amusing ? ” 
 
 Hildebrand raised his ruffled head ; his cheek, speared 
 by a hat-pin, bled freely over Mrs. Butler’s lace tie. “ It 
 was — her vice,” he gasped. “ She ran away — reared — 
 plunged — a Centaur,” gasped Hildebrand, “ would have 
 been powerless ” 
 
 Mrs. Butler, in glacial tones, advised him not to try 
 long words until he felt better ; and she pushed him 
 back. 
 
 Hildebrand, wild-eyed and gory, stood humbly on the 
 steps of the car. 
 
 “ The quietest mare in all Ireland,” boomed Standish 
 solemnly. “ If you had but taken up the reins, four motor 
 tyres wouldn’t disturb her.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler sniffed with too evident meaning. “Take 
 him away,” she snorted. “ Disgraceful.” 
 
 At this moment Hildebrand became aware of the potent 
 smell of spirits, and of Sandy and Standish in silent 
 laughter close by ; the stain on the teetotaller’s reputation 
 was too much for them. Phillips rescued his motor tyre 
 gravely, and stood by to listen ; Nora and Miss Mellicombe 
 leant from the open window. 
 
 “She — thinks — he — was — is — drunk ! ” gasped Nora 
 hysterically. 
 
 Becoming aware of the smell, Hildebrand sniffed also. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 iS8 
 
 He looked at the large lady, who sat in open fury in her 
 ear, her face red and flushed. 
 
 “ I fear that I have broken your flask of spirits,” said 
 Hildebrand politely. 
 
 At this point Sandy gave it up, and wondered how much 
 a man may laugh without injuring himself. Standish 
 Blundell’s rare bray of laughter rent the air as a shell 
 does. 
 
 Mrs. Butler glared at Hildebrand. “ I, young man, 
 do not require drink at twelve o’clock on a July morning, 
 and I do not stagger off horses,” she said. “ No. Pah ! 
 The car reeks of it.” 
 
 Hildebrand’s cheek bled freely ; his face was white ; 
 his eyes blazing ; but as he realized the imputation a flood 
 of poppy red changed his pallor to oblivion. He, H 11J ~ 
 brand Hannyside, member of Greater Bethel, a strict 
 teetotaller, was believed to be intoxicated. 
 
 For a moment he sought for speech and found it not. 
 
 “ Worcester sauce . . .” said Mrs. Butler. “ I must 
 come in to borrow a clean tie . . . Worcester sauce is 
 excellent. I’ve seen it tried, or plain soda, and take him 
 out of the sun.” 
 
 “ Be careful of the sun,” said Standish gloomily. “ And 
 fetch the Worcester sauce, Phillips.” 
 
 “ Certainly, sir,” said Phillips, going in rapidly. 
 
 When words broke from Hildebrand they came in a 
 piteous torrent. “ He ! He ! He ! He was a strict 
 teetotaller.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler said, “ Of course,” duly, and sniffed loudly. 
 
 “ A strict teetotaller. A crusader against the use of 
 alcohol — a — oh heaven,” wailed Hildebrand wildly. 
 
 “ The little taste that was in the glass couldn’t hurt a 
 fly,” said Mikkelo soothingly. “ I seen Phillips bring the 
 decanter down an’ it but half full. Tis the shock is on 
 him, ma’am, and the mare to whirl away oberight the hall 
 door.” 
 
 “ Oh heaven ! ” said Hildebrand. “ Madam — you shall 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 159 
 
 listen — she believes — she thinks, that I — I — that the 
 smell of that whisky came from me.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler turned on the step and smiled cruelly. 
 
 “ It didn't come from me anyhow,” said Standish gravely. 
 “ I had no whisky. It was a pity you got up, Hannyside, 
 even on that quiet black mare.” 
 
 “ Pick-me-up, sir ? ” said Phillips urbanely, appearing 
 with a tray. “ Mixed from old formula, sir.” 
 
 Strong emotion will turn the mildest nature — what 
 Hildebrand yelled out forcibly was “pick yourself up,” 
 and if Phillips had not been agile he must have gone down 
 before the onslaught. As it was, Hildebrand caught his 
 own foot in the motor tyre, which was laid up against the 
 steps, and plunged, caught in it, down the slope, struggling 
 to keep his balance. A deep echoing “disgraceful — there 
 you see” ringing in his maddened ears. 
 
 Phillips picked up the tyre and went gravely away, his 
 expression one of complete sympathy. Sandy held his 
 weary head, and Standish, with the black mare’s bridle 
 over his arm, looked on with unmixed gravity. 
 
 “ If you bathed your face,” he said at length. “ They tell 
 me cold water is excellent. And the races ? ” 
 
 “ Oh damn the races,” said Hildebrand, stalking back. 
 “Well, if you don’t feel up to the sun,” said Standish, 
 “ they’ll all understand your not being there.” 
 
 Young Mr. Hannyside took the stone steps three at 
 a time as he vanished to his room. 
 
 “ It’s sad — in one so young,” remarked Standish to the 
 group at the window. 
 
 Mrs. Butler had driven in on her way to answer herself 
 that Miss Knox and her sons were not at Castleknock. 
 She had been to her sister’s and found Mollie out with her 
 pupils. 
 
 As she replaced the gore-stained lace with something of 
 Nora’s and preached on the terrific corruption of the 
 present-day young men — completely ignoring Nora’s 
 murmurs of “teetotaller,” Hildebrand came to his window 
 
i6o 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 and looked out. There are moments when the overburdened 
 mind of man cannot keep silent. Hildebrand, as he had 
 rushed upstairs, was not at all sure that he would ever 
 speak to Standish Blundell again, but now, seeing that 
 gentleman alone outside — the car had gone into the yard — 
 absorbing his deferred drink, young Hannyside felt that 
 he must speak or go mad. Leaning out, he plunged into 
 fiery discourse. He almost wept at the memory of the 
 impression which he had made. He denounced Mrs. 
 Butler as unchristian and unbelieving. 
 
 Standish finished his long weak drink. 
 
 “ It was her nose/’ he said gloomily, “she smelt it.” 
 
 The desire for metaphor plunged Hildebrand into a 
 flurried muttering of words. He began “ All is not gold 
 that glitters,” and stopped half-way, and tried “ Much ado 
 about Nothing,” and did not find that suit, and opened 
 
 several other sayings such as “ A long lane ” and 
 
 “ Much cry little wool,” and several biblical texts, ending 
 none of them, until Standish looked up gloomily to remark 
 that he was waiting for the right one. Hildebrand finished 
 
 with a clearly alluded “ Ohd hang the woman,” uttered 
 
 too loudly for caution. 
 
 “ If she heard that now,” said Standish. “ And you’re 
 coming to the races ? ” 
 
 Hildebrand felt his punctured cheek and said sourly 
 that races were ungodly. 
 
 “If you don’t then,” said Standish, “they’ll all say it 
 was because you couldn’t, that you had to sleep it off. 
 Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not 
 escape calumny. Better come and look your soberest,” 
 said Standish gravely. 
 
 Hildebrand’s plunge of wrath was almost dangerous at 
 an open window. “ I — I will come then,” he said tragic- 
 ally. I will come for the honour of Greater Bethel.” 
 
 “ If you care to ride her over,” Standish suggested, nod- 
 ding towards the mare, “ Sandy would lend me his cob.” 
 
 Young Mr. Hannyside, with a hasty glance at the black, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 161 
 
 said firmly that he must practise horse-riding before he 
 ventured out on fiery animals. 
 
 “ With motors,” shuddered Hildebrand, “and crowds.” 
 
 “And whisky tents,” said Standish absently. “You’ll 
 never find a mare to suit you better than this one, Hanny- 
 side, for you must ride when you’re here. Lord above us, 
 wouldn’t any ordinary horse, instead of standing still to 
 drop you over into the car, have turned round to kick you 
 as you went.” 
 
 “Gracious heavens !” said Hildebrand nervously. 
 
 Standish handed the mare’s bridle to Mikkelo, who was 
 luckily near, and went gloomily into the drawing-room. 
 
 “ He’s coming to the races,” said Standish, “to clear his 
 smirched reputation. He says Mrs. Butler will live to 
 repentance. He’s rather like Ophelia up there,” added 
 Standish thoughtfully, “ before she jumped out of the 
 window.” 
 
 “ She fell into a brook, Mr. Blundell,” said Araminta 
 reprovingly. 
 
 “It might be Jezebel I was thinking of,” said Standish 
 slowly, “or Juliet. I was sick once, and my aunts read 
 Shakespeare to me. I went on with it afterwards. I know 
 it all now.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler asked for her motor ; she said she would go 
 on. “ Dermot was to have driven with me,” she said, “ but 
 he never came. And I feared that pushing young person, 
 Miss Knox, might have been here. And the boys often 
 come over.” 
 
 “ If you had tried the lake. ...” said Standish. “ Hold 
 her head to the car, you idiot, Mikkelo. Her head — 
 Man alive, can she see it with her heels ? ” 
 
 “ The what ? ” screamed Mrs. Butler, gripping Blunders 
 shoulder. 
 
 “The lake,” said Standish. “Oh, on top of it I mean. 
 There were a boatful learning to fish when I rode by, and 
 two of them were children.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler, with heightened colour, made for the door ; 
 n 
 
162 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 she was already growing friendly with Araminta, who had 
 chorused ° pushing, indeed, and foolish,” to the remark 
 about Mollie. 
 
 “ A very foolish young person,” said Araminta, coming 
 out to the steps. “ My poor uncle quite spoilt her for her 
 position. We make her a small allowance,” said Araminta 
 grandly, “out of charity.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler contemplated Araminta thoughtfully. When 
 she grew older one would probably forget how plain she 
 had been in her youth, but her money would not be a 
 memory. Mrs. Butler asked Araminta to luncheon. 
 
 Hildebrand, looking down from behind his window 
 upstairs, saw the stately lady sail into the sunshine. 
 
 “You did not, I trust, forget the Worcester sauce, 
 Phillips,” asked Mrs. Butler sternly. 
 
 “ Certainly not, madam,” said Phillips blandly, “ with 
 mixtures, madam.” 
 
 Hildebrand flew for his coat, that he might hear further 
 and shout contradiction, but by the time he had found it 
 the car had started. 
 
 “ And they all actually seemed to enjoy it,” muttered Mr. 
 Hannyside almost tearfully. 
 
 The Moye meeting was a very small one, but Irish 
 people in summer had not much to do, and a stream of 
 motors and traps found their way to the little course near 
 the Gulldees river. 
 
 A small stand, naked of covering or comfort, reared its 
 angular little self against the sky. One might enter for five 
 shillings, or half-a-crown for a lady. No plunger, in fact, 
 could remain outside where the sprinkling of bookies looked 
 doubtfully at anything above half-a-crown, and were quite 
 capable of being missing should a well-backed favourite 
 get home. 
 
 But Hildebrand would not go in. He considered it 
 wrong. 
 
 “ It would give it too great countenance in my eyes,” he 
 said, stopping at the click of the turnstile. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 163 
 
 “ What will you do with such a youth, Mrs. Acland,” 
 said Mrs. Butler as she passed. “ The whisky from the 
 tents will kill him ! ” 
 
 With a martyr’s glance, Hildebrand drifted out unhappily 
 amongst the crowd. He was besought by old Bessy to buy 
 oranges. He was offered shots at Aunt Sallies. Three- 
 card men followed his light grey coat as steel follows a 
 magnet, so that their table was constantly in his way. The 
 stout lady who owned the load of cock and feather told him 
 loudly that he “ had no sort of pluck at all.” 
 
 Some one took away his silk handkerchief, and the first 
 race involved him in a roaring mass of excited humanity, 
 which bore him in their midst as the horses struggled past 
 the post. After this Sandy came out to keep him com- 
 pany. 
 
 The baskets and the motors were being unpacked ; sand- 
 wiches and cakes and drinks were being disposed of. 
 
 Hildebrand, plump and neat in dark grey, came to lunch 
 full of desire to meet the people of the country, and to 
 show them the wickedness of Mrs. Butler’s evil thoughts, 
 for a less active mind would have detected the undercurrent 
 in the looks these strangers cast at him, most of them good 
 natured, and several quite sad. 
 
 “ Dreadful for Sandy,” said Kathleen levers. “ He does 
 look all puffy, poor thing.” 
 
 “At that hour,” remarked Sir James. “Hey, what? 
 Lord, where will his nerve be when he’s thirsty ? ” 
 
 Derek Knox Harding, the master of the hounds, nodded 
 at introduction almost curtly, murmuring, “ Hate boys who 
 drink,” to Sally, his sister. 
 
 Hildebrand’s plump cheeks grew flushed from anger and 
 worry. He sat upon the steps of the car and ate lobster 
 patties as though they were wool. 
 
 “ Whisky-and-Perrier, sir,” said Phillips. 
 
 “ Lemonade !” shot out Hildebrand savagely, “or plain 
 Perrier with lemon in it. How can you all drink stimu- 
 lants ? ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 164 
 
 Derek Knox Harding turned inquiringly. He was 
 lunching close by at his own car. 
 
 “ Is it less wasteful than throwing them over people’s 
 clothes? ” said Standish gloomily, but the lids which hung 
 above his melancholy eyes quivered in quick succession 
 towards Derek. 
 
 There were moments when Araminta sided with her 
 cousin. 
 
 “ Hildebrand is a teetotaller. He has always been a 
 teetotaller,” she said sternly. “It was Mr. Blundell’s 
 whisky.” 
 
 “ Which he never got,” said Standish sadly. 
 
 “ And it was upset on Hildebrand,” went on Araminta 
 firmly ; “ that was why he smelt of it.” 
 
 Hildebrand rose with a lobster patty in his hand and 
 absolutely smiled at Araminta. He had three more patties 
 and several sandwiches and cheesecakes, because he felt 
 that now he would be recognized for what he was. He 
 began to discuss racing very volubly, and as Sandy stayed 
 outside with him he was not lost again in the crowd. 
 
 “ It is,” said Hildebrand sententiously, “ the most foolish 
 sport on earth, and the most degraded. Look at the 
 crowds about you — gnawing bones, drinking porter and 
 whisky, wasting their earnings, all to see if one wretched 
 beast on four legs passes ” 
 
 “ Another on three,” boomed Standish in deep-voiced, 
 grief-stricken tones. 
 
 To this Standish added gloomily that owners knew too 
 much, horses wanting all their legs being the very pith of 
 racing. 
 
 Araminta having salved her conscience by announcing 
 that she would send all her winnings to the heathen, had 
 already made a bet. She came past them now, politely, if 
 not enthusiastically, escorted by Dermot Butler, and she 
 was eager for another winner. 
 
 “ Mikkelo spoke of something,” said Araminta. “Does 
 any one remember what it was ? ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 i6 5 
 
 “ A mare of Clanchy’s, madam,” said Phillips. “ May 
 not please as to complete soundness, but warms up, I am 
 told.” 
 
 Araminta clung coyly to Dermot as they struggled back. 
 Big, good-natured men elbowed her as she went, but her 
 tolerant pleasure in Ireland was still with her, and she was 
 agreeably surprised at their good behaviour. 
 
 “ They are really not brandishing things or trailing 
 coats,” said Araminta pleasantly. “ So exaggerated, what 
 one reads. ” 
 
 Having got into the stand, a glance at Clanchy’s mare 
 made Dermot shake his head firmly. Lady Lass was a 
 weedy bay with more quality than substance and distinctly 
 “ favouring a leg.” 
 
 They passed on to the favourite — a big chestnut — and 
 the money for the heathen prayer-books was entrusted to 
 his care. 
 
 Araminta found racing pleasanter than she had dreamt 
 of. She held Mr. Dermot Butler firmly to her side, follow- 
 ing him at an angular trot when he tried to escape. A 
 wasted half-crown having to be considered when Clanchy’s 
 mare came home in a canter, and the chestnut four- year- 
 old finished what Mikkelo called down the course, Araminta 
 gloomily suggested more luncheon. 
 
 “ If I had put that two-and-six on Clanchy’s animal,” she 
 said. 
 
 “You would have got back ten shillings,” said Dermot, 
 looking round to Sandy. 
 
 “ And prayer-books are ninepence each. If I bet again 
 and lose,” said Araminta, “ there will be so much each 
 tjme off my subscription to Mr. Eustace’s mission.” 
 
 Hildebrand was also having more lunch. Sandy had 
 duly introduced him to every one who came up, and the 
 warm glow of satisfaction was warming young Mr. Hanny- 
 side’s heart. He met old Sir James. He was introduced 
 to Lady Hermione Cahir. He swam on the crest of a 
 wave of courtly severity. 
 
i66 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ Like Ireland ? ” said Lady Hermione to him ; “ like the 
 funny people ? ” 
 
 “/find them reasonable and sensible,” said Hildebrand. 
 “ I should say they were a level-headed race, and most 
 friendly.” 
 
 “ Humph ! humph ! humph ! ” said Sir James. 
 
 Hildebrand talked of Northlap and his life there. He 
 bewailed his uncle’s pernicious will. 
 
 “ For I,” said Hildebrand, raising a plump, white hand, 
 “ I abhor racing. Fate has made me an unwilling owner. 
 It can never find a member of my congregation to coun- 
 tenance the sport.” 
 
 “ Humph ! humph ! Won’t die of that,” grunted old Sir 
 James. “Humph! well, humph ! Hey? What?” 
 
 “ Have you got the Perrier open, Phillips ? Where’s 
 Phillips ? ” said Sandy. 
 
 “Or even to make a bet,” said Hildebrand, imperiously 
 waving his fifth lobster patty. 
 
 “ Four shillings, sir,” said Phillips, laying four greasy 
 coins in Hildebrand’s hand. “ And your own, sir ? Easy 
 win, sir.” 
 
 “ But, I . . .” cried Hildebrand. “ I made no bet, 
 Phillips.” 
 
 Amid a series of grunts over the rim of a long tumbler, 
 Sir James said, “ Hey, what?” several times. “ Gives us a 
 lecture and spots the winner,” grunted the big old man. 
 
 “I never made a bet,” wailed Hildebrand. “Phillips 
 said something going away about a mare. I stayed here.” 
 
 But long before Hildebrand could get any one to listen 
 to him, they had all drifted away grinning. With a bruised 
 and chastened heart he put the shillings in his pocket, 
 reproving Phillips severely, and wandered away alone. 
 His three-and-twenty years had never known so pungent 
 a day. To be accused of drinking ; to have won money 
 betting. The crowds were surging to the edge of the 
 course, the horses were just out for a race. Mastene, 
 the favourite, had been backed for every penny which 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 167 
 
 could be got on, until the answer “ Full on Mastene” came 
 from every bookmaker. But here, outside, one, styling 
 himself Laurie Cassidy, who was sailing for Australia next 
 day, had taken all he could get, trusting to an accident or 
 his own legs. Mr. Cassidy was stout and young, but 
 a false beard which he carried in his bag served instead of 
 time when he wanted to grow old. He left his stand 
 to watch the result, and Hildebrand seeing it, got up on 
 the eminence to look at the race. 
 
 One horse was the same as another to Hildebrand. He 
 merely saw a struggling mass of gay-coloured jackets, and 
 heard a fearful tornado of yells as Mastene sailed home 
 two lengths in front. 
 
 “Gracious! how excited they are,” said Hildebrand, 
 watching the horses being pulled up. He stayed absently 
 on his box waiting for the crowd to disperse, but, instead, 
 they thickened about him, thrusting tickets of red-and- 
 white into his hands. 
 
 “ One shilling — Mastene at evens. A crown — Mastene 
 two shillings here.” 
 
 The tickets multiplied ; Hildebrand looked at the crowd 
 and shook his head. 
 
 “ I have nothing to say to Mastene, my good men,” he 
 said coldly. “ He is not one of my stud.” 
 
 The crowd was wild for its winnings. Hildebrand 
 wore a grey suit and was plump and young ; he was some- 
 thing like Cassidy. 
 
 “Will ye pay us ? ” thundered some one in threatening 
 tones. 
 
 “My good man,” said Hildebrand, “I do not owe you 
 anything.” 
 
 “ Holy Hivin, to-night, an’ the ticket in me hand. And 
 ye scooped the money as fast as ye could,” roared some 
 one else. 
 
 “ But listen,” said Hildebrand, “ listen, my friends.” 
 
 To which a voice made reply that if they were not 
 instantly paid, there was one man who was not likely to 
 
i68 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 be able to listen for a taste of time, because the head on 
 his shoulders wouldn’t be his own. Some one put up 
 a stick. A chill of horror ran down Hildebrand’s spine. 
 They took him for the bookie on whose stand he stood. 
 He looked feverishly round for help. 
 
 “ I. My heavens ! I am not the man you mean,” he 
 cried. “ Pray listen to reason, my good men, and don’t be 
 foolish.” 
 
 “Ye will not be a man at all, but a corpse in five 
 minutes if you don’t sthop yer jaw and pay,” observed a 
 comforting farmer. 
 
 “ If you dare ; out of my way.” Hildebrand tried to get 
 off his box. He was banged back there with his hat left 
 behind, and a large bump replacing it on one side of his 
 head. The refuge of all Englishmen came to his whirling 
 mind. He shrieked. “The Law. Police! Police!” as 
 the crowd surged in with set, ominous faces, and the lust 
 of blood in their minds. Get an angry crowd together, 
 and it becomes as one murderous man, incapable of reason, 
 impulse swayed, brutal, until its deed is done. 
 
 “ There’s a row,” said Sandy. “ There’s a — what ! ” 
 
 “It’s Mr. Hannyside, sir,” said Phillips softly. “He 
 appears — *er— to have been laying the odds and got into 
 trouble, sir.” 
 
 “ It’s Hildebrand ! ” gasped Sandy. “ Come on, Standish.” 
 
 The big man and the little heaved their way to rescue. 
 Hildebrand remained swaying on his box, scientifically 
 knocked into place by a stick or a fist whenever he tried 
 to get down. 
 
 “ They’ll kill him before we get there,” said Sandy. 
 “ What has he done now ? ” 
 
 “ There’s Magner in it,” boomed Standish. 
 
 “ Apparently welshed, sir,” said Phillips politely, keeping 
 up the rear armed with a bottle of Perrier. “ Deep gentle- 
 man, sir, young Mr. Hannyside.” 
 
 “ Give us our money that ye took,” yelled the crowd. 
 
 With despair in his heart, Hildebrand felt for and 
 
SANDY MARRIED 169 
 
 dragged out his four ill-gotten shillings, proffering them to 
 the men about him as all he would give for liberty. 
 
 They closed on him with a rush just as big Standish 
 got up. 
 
 “ Let go, you idiots/’ roared Standish. " Mike Magner, 
 Croghessy, Halpin!” he called to three by name, “ that’s 
 Mr. Sandy Acland’s cousin.” 
 
 “ God forbid ! ” said Sandy, who was stopped by two 
 big men. 
 
 u Doin’ murder while your real man is in Cork by now,” 
 roared Standish. “ God help you all for fools ; does this 
 one look as if he had the sense of a bookmaker ? ” 
 
 Some one laughed — sticks were lowered — Mike Magner, 
 a tenant of Standish’s, found Hildebrand’s hat, and punched 
 it into shape, wiped it with his coat-sleeve, and proffered 
 it politely. 
 
 “ Axin’ ye’re honour’s pardon,” said the man who had 
 threatened five varieties of death, “ but ye up on his box 
 and all, and fat as himself.” 
 
 Hildebrand clasped his aching head. He made for the 
 nearest support, which happened to be a sweet stall, and he 
 sat on it. 
 
 “ Pardon,” he said rigidly. “ Where are the police ? 
 Assault on a peaceable citizen. Where are the police ? 
 Good heavens! You,” he almost shrieked to Standish. 
 “ Stop them. Arrest them ! ” 
 
 (i God save you, think of the king’s pockets,” said 
 Standish gloomily. “ He is a teetotaller, Mike ; it’s no use 
 offering that plaster.” 
 
 Poor Mike Magner, urged by penitence, had returned 
 with a brimming glass of fiery spirits. 
 
 “ The mistake bein’ natural entirely, Misther Blundell,” 
 said Mike penitently. “Wouldn’t he take it for friend- 
 ship.” 
 
 “ Very large bump just over left ear, sir,” said Phillips 
 sympathetically. “ Exceedingly painful I fear, sir. Perhaps 
 a wet handkerchief, sir, or a silver spoon.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 170 
 
 “ A lump of raw meat,” said Mike Magner hastily, “ is 
 grand. And a drop of good spirits within. Be said by me 
 now, sir, an’ take it down. ’Twill hearten ye now, ye’re 
 lookin’ sickly.” 
 
 “ I do not touch intoxicants, man,” roared Hildebrand 
 acidly. 
 
 Mr. Magner explained as a mother would to a child that 
 he had not brought that same, but a good honest glass of 
 whisky. “’Twas the mercy of God,” he added, absently 
 taking the whisky himself, “ that we none of us in the 
 fluster made a fair stroke at the young gentleman, an’ he 
 your friend and all, yer honour.” 
 
 Hildebrand put his hand to his aching head and asked 
 what that was. 
 
 “ Praises be to Heaven, that was but the wind of a stick,” 
 said Magner politely. 
 
 Hildebrand rose stiffly from the sweet stall, quite 
 unaware of what he had sat upon ; fragments of sugar- 
 sticks fell on either hand, and a glass bottle full of bull’s- 
 eyes tipped over, to shed its contents on some brown slabs 
 of toffee, to which they stuck glutinately. 
 
 The small girl who watched the stall looked on in awed 
 dismay, waiting the return of the stout and hasty-tempered 
 lady proprietor. 
 
 With a scratched cheek and a bumped head, torn and 
 dishevelled, full of bitterness, Hildebrand was taken to the 
 car. His progress was one of jerks, as at each moment he 
 stopped to declaim the lawlessness of Ireland, as at the 
 next he swore that those who had assaulted him should 
 find gaol their resting-place. 
 
 If any one had taken any notice of him he would have 
 borne it better ; but no one did, save Phillips, who marched 
 behind muttering “ Bump — dreadful bump,” until Standish 
 asked him in melancholy tones when he had been a 
 boating man. A large and amiable looking pair of 
 constables looming lazily through the crowd, Hildebrand 
 pounced on them wildly. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 171 
 
 He had been battered — assaulted— -outraged. He de- 
 manded the protection of the law. 
 
 “ My, my, my ! ” Constable Hayes scratched his nose 
 confusedly. “ And they to take you for Cassidy, a vilyin 
 that welshed me own money two years back, and paid me 
 in sixpences when I ran agin him by chance. My, my ! 
 What tuk ye up on his box, sir ? ” 
 
 “ Sure the gintleman was likely anxious for his own 
 money,” said Constable Green sympathetically. “Well, 
 well. No offence, sir. Ye might have a small bit on out 
 here as well as within.” 
 
 “ I would not say,” said Standish, “ Sandy, that this 
 boy would not be taken ill with the fluster that’s on 
 him.” 
 
 “ D’ye charge them, sir ? ” said Hayes, listening with 
 manifest fear to Hildebrand’s outburst. “Ye can identify 
 them then ? ” 
 
 Hildebrand paused. He looked round. One beaming 
 Irish face was so very like another. 
 
 “ There was one with a red beard,” he said. “ He 
 struck me.” 
 
 Constable Green said soothingly that foxy men were 
 always hasty, and then looked at Sandy and coughed in 
 apology. 
 
 “ And one with a squint,” rapped out Hildebrand, “ and 
 one called Mike and one Patsy. But Mr. Acland and Mr. 
 Blundell know the assaulters, they spoke to them, they 
 stopped them.” 
 
 Constable Hayes held up an expectant pencil. 
 
 “ I,” said Standish, in a clear voice, looking back at 
 Mike Magner, who was close by. “ I merely called out to 
 two of my tenants, respectable men who were doubtless 
 going to make the peace. One brought stimulants after- 
 wards to Mr. Hannyside.” 
 
 “ Good, begob,” said Mike Magner contentedly. 
 
 The grey eyes of Constable Green fell upon his ruddy- 
 coloured beard and scanned it thoughtfully. 
 
1J2 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ If you cannot identify them, sir ” said the police- 
 
 man, with a respectful lack of hope. 
 
 “You are all one as bad as another,” blared Hildebrand, 
 rushing on. 
 
 “ As the beard on ye fit to light fires by,” said Constable 
 Hayes to Magner, “that was a nice mistook ye all made. 
 I seen ye far off.” 
 
 “’Twas near a job for the coroner,” said Magner, absently 
 melting into the crowd. 
 
 “Good gracious, Hildebrand!” said Araminta, “ because 
 you will stay outside with all the drunken people surely 
 you need not play Aunt Sally,” added that young lady 
 icily. The place was full of people getting ready to 
 leave. She felt a certain responsibility as Hildebrand’s 
 cousin. 
 
 It was the last straw. Hildebrand sat down upon the 
 step of the car and hated the world bitterly. Mrs. Butler 
 in her grey satin looked at him with scornful meaning. 
 
 “ What will you do with him, Mr. Acland ? ” drifted 
 plainly to Hildebrand’s ears. 
 
 “We might reform him,” said Sandy very gravely, as he 
 took some tea. “ He’s young.” 
 
 “ In a brawl here with all those men,” said Mrs. Butler. 
 “ Here ! ” 
 
 “Me mama says,” observed a thin and different voice, 
 “ she towld me to say.” A small ragged child appeared on 
 the scene. 
 
 “ Well ? ” said Sandy. 
 
 “ That . . . that’s him, the fat young man — that will ye 
 pay for Peggy’s leg that ye sat on. Its thruppence,” said 
 the shrill voice. 
 
 Hildebrand shot to his feet glaring at his new 
 tormentor. 
 
 “ I declare, Hannyside,” said Standish gloomily. “ I 
 declare.” 
 
 The motors were all crammed together. Every one 
 stopped to listen as with a fresh burst of rage Hildebrand 
 
SANDY MARRIED 173 
 
 declaimed that he had never heard of Peggy, never sat on 
 any female. Never. 
 
 “ An’ ye carried two bits with ye,” said the fearless 
 voice. “ Ma says, nothin’ short of a shillin’ would pay her 
 for the upset ye made.” 
 
 “ Local name for sweetmeat, sir,” explained Phillips, 
 coming to the rescue. “ Peggy leg, sir. And excuse me — 
 two pieces adhering to— er — your trousers, sir.” 
 
 Amid the laughter which rent the air Phillips gravely 
 removed two pieces of fat brown sugar-stick from Hilde- 
 brand’s grey trousers. 
 
 “ Effect of sunshine upon the sugar, sir,” said Phillips. 
 
 “ Phillips,” said Mr. Acland when he found some breath, 
 “ be quiet.” 
 
 “ Certainly, sir,” said Phillips, walking off to get fresh tea 
 for his master. 
 
 Mr. Hannyside drew a shilling from his pocket, and with 
 something resembling a sob in his throat, flung it to the 
 child and sank down again upon the step where he was at 
 least partially hidden. 
 
 “I do hope,” whispered Araminta to Nora, “that the 
 smell of that spilt whisky did not get into Hildebrand’s 
 head. He has behaved so strangely to-day.” 
 
 “ Curiously intelligent and reasonable people the Irish,” 
 said Sandy that night at dinner. “You saw it at once, 
 didn’t you, Hildebrand ? ” 
 
 “ I see none,” said Hildebrand, savagely holding his 
 throbbing head ; “ they are the most lawless and impossible 
 nation in the world.” 
 
 “ Dear me,” said Sandy thoughtfully. “ Dear me.” 
 
 “And I will have my horses back at Northlap or there 
 is no law in the world,” stormed Hildebrand wildly. “ I 
 shall not stay here to be, to be ” 
 
 “ Or not to be,” finished Standish sadly. 
 
 “To be libelled — splashed with other people’s whisky, 
 beaten for a welsher, misunderstood as to Peggy,” 
 stammered Hildebrand. 
 
174 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ The horses are going to stay now and they’ll get quite 
 used to you in a little,” said Sandy soothingly. 
 
 “ I think,” said Nora five minutes later — they ( were having 
 coffee outside — “ that Mr. Hannyside has gone to his own 
 room, Phillips ; his head ached.” 
 
 “ Very unfortunate — embroilment in rows,” said Phillips 
 gravely, “ Mr. Hannyside’s not accustomed to dealing with 
 excited crowds as yet.” 
 
 Something choked audibly at the window above them. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 Come unto these yellow sands. 
 
 — Tempest. 
 
 HERE’S a goer for you, sir,” said Watson enthusi- 
 
 astically. Doing a steady half-speed canter, Red 
 Fairy swept over the thick grass of the big field — pulling 
 double, shaking his head as if he could not have enough. 
 He came down a slight slope with the movement of a 
 perfect galloper, but as he cantered up the next rise he 
 sprawled just a little. 
 
 “ I can’t like his hock action up hill/’ said Nora. “ And 
 he’s light in the middle.” 
 
 Hildebrand and Araminta looked with gloomy annoy- 
 ance at their string. 
 
 Araminta’s love of bed was greatly tempered by “Two 
 Little Girls in Blue ” chanted in varying keys on one note, 
 from a too early hour. Her politely worded hint of another 
 room was at first ignored by Mrs. Acland, and then when 
 made plainer refused with deep sorrow. 
 
 Because in the blue room, she would be next door to the 
 children, who were so noisy, and the east room was being 
 papered, or going to be. And the corner room had rats 
 in it. 
 
 “ But surely this horse cannot get beaten,” said Araminta 
 irritably. 
 
 “ He must win next spring. He couldn’t keep us on 
 like this.” Sandy looked patiently at his self-invited 
 guests. 
 
 “We must have things settled,” said Miss Mellicombe 
 fiercely “There is Arthur Eustace waiting for me, and 
 
176 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 all the jewels I am to have, and the money. I am sick of 
 affairs running on in this fashion.” 
 
 “And I want to live at Northlap,” grumbled Hilde- 
 brand, “ and to — take a helpmeet.” 
 
 Sandy said thoughtfully he thought it was mate, but no 
 doubt it was quite the same. 
 
 “And live a humble, goodly life,” said Hildebrand 
 sententiously — ignoring the interruption — “ and,” he sighed 
 heavily, “as it is, what will be left? With oats, hay, 
 repairs, boys, harness, entrance fees, what will be left? 
 These old brutes eating in idleness when there are cabs 
 to draw.” 
 
 “That youngster there,” said Watson, coming up, “ may 
 make a useful horse in a couple of years. And we had 
 better run Beau Jay in a race or two over here. He 
 might beat what he’ll meet and get passed on.” 
 
 The little brown horse was cantering now. He went 
 evenly, yet stiffly, with a long stride which never seemed 
 to vary. “ That’s his canter and that’s his gallop,” said 
 Watson discontentedly, “ but we’ll enter him — and if all 
 the others fall he could win — he’s never tired — he’s never 
 hot, and he gains two lengths at every fence he comes to.” 
 
 “ Wouldn’t ye pull him out for the Galway Plate ? ” 
 suggested Mikkelo, who now came by what he called a 
 short cut to his work. The said short cut being quite half 
 a mile out of his way. “ I'd like that little horse,” added 
 Mikkelo critically. “ Begonnes, but I’d like him.” 
 
 Pop-Gun, pulling up close to them, immediately tried to 
 eat grass. He was scarcely blown — quite dry, he looked 
 at the world with a lazily generous eye. Pie did his best 
 and could do no more. 
 
 “ It’s the uncertainty,” groaned Araminta. “ If any- 
 thing happened to this Red Fancy. If he tripped over a 
 fence.” 
 
 “Tripped! God save ye,” remarked Mikkelo to him- 
 self, in what he believed to be an undertone. 
 
 “ Or stumbled,” said Araminta, eyeing Mikkelo. “ Hilde- 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 1 77 
 
 brand, you will have to go to that race — to attend to 
 events.” 
 
 Sandy muttered something about holding the horse’s 
 head when he jumped, and Hildebrand said stiffly that no 
 doubt, as it was to watch his own interests, it would be 
 forgiven. 
 
 " You really ought to give the stud up,” said Araminta 
 kindly. “ You ought to, Hildebrand, with your con- 
 science.” 
 
 Hildebrand grunted. The walk back to breakfast was 
 enlivened by lectures on extravagance, relating to the 
 wearing by Araminta of bright-buckled shoes and a flimsy 
 petticoat which caught. 
 
 Miss Grimes, it appeared, wore suitable boots when she 
 walked through grass, and a short tweed skirt. She saved 
 the money for greater purposes than buckles and lace. 
 
 Araminta replying heatedly, that women with platter 
 feet needn’t care what they wore, and that if, as Hilde- 
 brand said, Miss Grimes wore short petticoats she did it 
 to show her ankles, the cousins plunged into an argument, 
 which lasted until they reached the steps. 
 
 “ God save us — but isn’t it peevish they are,” confided 
 Mikkelo audibly to himself. “ Peevish and crabsome.” 
 
 Araminta returned defiance as to her shortcomings — she 
 flung her co-heirship at Hildebrand with a sure aim. She 
 would sell her half of everything, she would come and live 
 in Northlap, she would give balls under his silly, fiat- 
 booted wife’s nose, to which when she had lost breath 
 Hildebrand had his say and dared her to show temper or 
 extravagance. Northlap was his. Half of everything was 
 his. He’d take the jewels for his future wife — his share of 
 them — and put them in the bank, as she would be too 
 sensible to wear them. 
 
 The Aclands walked near but did not speak. 
 
 “ Jakus — peevish,” said Mikkelo, again to himself. 
 
 “ What’s that ? ” snapped Araminta wheeling. “ What 
 did you say, man ? ” 
 
178 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ But a word I was using to a robbit, ‘ Missy/ ” said 
 Mikkelo, blandly innocent, “ Pee wit, I said to it — fearin' 
 the dogs might ate it. That's an ugly, frightsome habit I 
 have, talkin' aloud," he added to himself, quite audibly. 
 
 “ Bridget," said Mrs. Acland, through the kitchen 
 window, “ there are trout for breakfast ; fry them 
 in oil." 
 
 “ 'Tis done in butter now, ma'am,” said Mrs. Cafferty, 
 showing a floury face. 
 
 “ Oil,” said Nora absently, “ is soothing. Very well, 
 Bridget, have a salad for luncheon. Sandy, I don’t know 
 why you are laughing.” 
 
 “ It was at Mikkelo's robbit,” said Sandy in choked tones. 
 
 MissMellicombe made a good breakfast She believed 
 fish and chops and ham to be better summer food than 
 eggs. Hildebrand grew more affable over a large helping 
 of rabbit pie — and Nora eyed them both with more 
 thought than love. 
 
 14 1— had a long talk with Mrs. Butler, yesterday,” said 
 Araminta. “ She has an excellent cook, by the way, 
 Mrs. Acland — such good pastry and savouries — a long 
 talk," said Araminta. “ She tells me how absurdly Mollie 
 Knox behaved — out boating with young men ; neglecting 
 her duties — neglecting the children's education. If Mollie 
 is not careful ” — Miss Mellicombe took a large slice of 
 brawn — “ we can discontinue our generosity and force her 
 to work. She had the training of young children, a 
 delightful task, in her hands.” 
 
 Miss Brown sighed as she looked at her charges. 
 
 i( She might try being a lady help,” said Hildebrand. 
 
 “ She’s going to,” said Nora drily. i( At once ” 
 
 “ Mrs. Butler,” said Araminta, “ fears that the girl’s head 
 might be turned by the boys’ kindness. She is glad that 
 Mollie is leaving at once. Where has she got this new 
 situation ? ” 
 
 “ Here,” said Nora. “ I — want a secretary — and I 
 
 always forget to do the flowers.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 179 
 
 Miss Mellicombe laid down her knife and fork. She 
 stared blankly at her hostess, she explained that it was 
 not really kind to put Mollie in a false position, to take 
 her away from serious work. 
 
 “ She — pursues Mr. Dermot Butler,” said Araminta, 
 “she writes to ask him to come over and see her — I know 
 it — I saw the postcard — Mrs. Butler had it. It was 
 4 Daisy and Maud say you may take them fishing, as you 
 want to.’ Mrs. Butler was furious. Mollie must not 
 come here, Mrs. Acland, must not.” 
 
 44 Of course it will mean a lot of people for luncheon,” 
 said Nora absently. 44 She is coming to-day.” 
 
 The arrival of Miss Knox about midday was marked by 
 excessive coldness on the part of her distant relations. 
 Araminta immediately explained that she considered it 
 wrong and foolish of Mollie. Hildebrand wished to know 
 if Mrs. Acland’s house was to be looked on as an hotel. 
 They met their cousin on the doorstep. 
 
 44 The school-room,” said ^Araminta coldly, 44 is right 
 along the passage, Mollie.” 
 
 44 But I am in the drawing-room,” observed Nora from 
 the window. 
 
 44 Oh, peevish, dam peevish,” observed Mikkelo loudly to 
 the railing which he was painting. 
 
 44 Gorgons,” said Mrs. Acland to Mollie, who looked 
 frightened. 44 Don’t you mind them, my dear. And we 
 are going to the sea to-morrow ; they want to see Ireland, 
 and ” 
 
 44 It’s a grey horse this time,” said Sandy, looking down 
 the avenue. 
 
 44 He showed us that one before,” said Nora composedly. 
 44 He forgets.” 
 
 44 It has probably improved,” said Sandy, watching the 
 arrival of Dennis Butler, and then listening to minute 
 reasons concerning this fresh view of the grey, and the 
 owner’s earnest desire to take advice about an off hind leg. 
 
 Mollie, with her hair curling round her pretty face, came 
 
i8o 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 out to join the council. She said unkindly that she 
 thought the grey had grown thin. 
 
 “ It’s from always riding him,” said Mollie severely. 
 “You’re generally on him, when we find you at the lake 
 or up the hills.” 
 
 Sandy coughed discreetly. A lightning-like glance 
 from Dennis made him endeavour to sneeze, and to fail 
 signally. 
 
 About three Mr. Dermot Butler drove his motor over 
 to ask Sandy what oil he used — he was not satisfied with 
 his brand. 
 
 Nora remarked, as she poured out tea, that she began 
 to feel as if she really had a house-party. 
 
 “ And it was quite nasty of you, Sandy,” she added, in 
 a severe undertone to her husband, “ to remind Dermot 
 that he had himself recommended you the oil we use here. 
 Memory in some circumstances is absurd ,” said Mrs. 
 Acland with withering emphasis. 
 
 The evening was shortened by the discussions of Ara- 
 minta and Hildebrand as to their journey next day. 
 Araminta scorned all ideas of anything at all amusing 
 occurring. And Hildebrand was completely certain that 
 the seaside hotel they were going to would not be clean. 
 
 Sandy and Nora, as mere inhabitants of the country, sat 
 and listened equably. 
 
 They were going by train ; a new tyre necessary for the 
 car not having arrived. Mollie Knox, despite several open 
 hints as to Miss Brown’s loneliness, sat with them, her 
 pretty little face set sadly. This pleasant visit was hers 
 for the present, but Mollie looked out at the grey dreari- 
 ness of the future, when she must work for her living, with 
 the munificence of ten shillings a week as her one certainty 
 of income. Typewriting — Mollie knew that if she went 
 back to it it would be no longer a pastime, with work 
 clicked out in her pleasant flat, but a forced and endless 
 labour, with weary fingers tapping at the cruel keys ; with 
 fears of mistakes losing her her work, and cruel letters 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 181 
 
 lying near telling her that MSS. must be delivered without 
 fail by a specified date. The work we live by is always 
 a hungry wolf, eating our brains and power of enjoyment ; 
 a wild beast, with sharp fangs, and yet a thing we dread 
 to lose the power of holding by the chain wrought of links 
 of anxiety. The worker knows no pleasant certainty of 
 yearly dividends which come to him in sickness or in 
 health. Our sickness is an ever-present dread ; the idle- 
 ness we sometimes snatch at recklessly means double toil 
 when it is over. 
 
 Mollie looked out at a rich summer's night, flower- 
 scented, star-jewelled — great trees made dark blots against 
 the evening dimness ; big beetles blundering noisily ; bats 
 winging crookedly up and down. She wanted the right 
 to enjoy it all without thought or fear. And her face grew 
 sadder as she remembered how she had never given much 
 thought to the future, believing her kind old cousin would 
 leave her in comfort. 
 
 No girl dreams of a mateless life. Mollie would whip 
 herself to visions of some rich Prince Charming who would 
 lift her for ever out of the slough of doubt. And the 
 Prince Charming insisted on assuming the form of a 
 tanned, grey-eyed youth in shabby clothes, whose yearly 
 income was generally enough to keep him in tobacco and 
 forage — a man with nothing clearly must not marry a 
 penniless wife. 
 
 “ What are you thinking of ? ” said Araminta tartly. 
 “ You ought to read French dictionaries, Mollie, instead 
 of dreaming.” 
 
 Mollie, waking with a start, replied demurely that she 
 was studying the spelling of the word life, to which Ara- 
 minta, with the patience one uses to a very young child, 
 spelt out L-I-F-E, in distinct tones, and wondered how 
 any one could think of it with a Y in it. 
 
 “ Also of the National,” said Mollie. “ When your 
 religious convictions are too much for you, Araminta, I 
 shall be extremely interested in it. If there was anything,” 
 
182 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 she said, growing hopeful, “ I could do over here — those 
 creamery things, with steam spouts — don’t they want 
 manageresses ? ” 
 
 Sandy asked if Mollie knew how to make butter. 
 
 “You churn it with cream,” said Mollie, “and sell it.” 
 
 Sandy said he feared she had a great deal to learn 
 as yet. 
 
 “ But I want to stay here,” said Mollie, going to bed. 
 
 A sliding drive upon an outside car brought Araminta 
 and Hildebrand to Cara Station — they were honoured with 
 the grey cob, a leisurely but trustworthy animal, to draw 
 them thither. 
 
 The others came later in Dermot Butler’s motor, which 
 he had again driven over to ask a question about. Dermot 
 was resplendent in pale grey. He was a distinctly good- 
 looking young fellow, and it took him some hours to 
 choose his motor caps. He developed extreme nervous- 
 ness just as they got to the station, wheeling the car out 
 of the yard almost before Nora had got out. A glance at 
 a dark-green brougham made Nora guess the reason. 
 
 Mrs. Butler was upon the platform, fussily awaiting the 
 arrival of a visitor. 
 
 “ Miss Hall Marten,” she said to Nora. “Evelina Hall 
 Marten. An only child, Mrs. Acland, and beautiful — so 
 suitable,” hinted Mrs. Butler softly, with a glance in the 
 direction of the river, where she believed Dermot to be 
 fishing. " So lucky to get her here. Oh, Dennis ! ” she 
 added in surprised tones. 
 
 Dennis had come to look for a parcel. It could not 
 have been a nice parcel, for he blushed hotly when he saw 
 his stepmother. 
 
 “ Miss Knox, I presume, is going away ? ” questioned 
 Mrs. Butler affably. 
 
 Nora nodded. 
 
 Mrs. Butler was pleased. “ I feared you might ask her 
 over, and visits,” she said, “ are unsettling to volatile and 
 foolish natures.” Here she looked sternly at the bit of 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 ’83 
 
 blue skirt showing behind some stacks of meal, as she 
 realized that Dennis’s search for his parcel had led him in 
 that direction. 
 
 Araminta immediately improved the hour by agreeing 
 heartily. “ And it would be to stay on indefinitely,” said 
 Araminta. “ Kindness may be unwise and almost cruel 
 in the end.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler sat upon a truck. “ To stay on indefinitely. 
 When — and how ? ” she listened feverishly as Araminta 
 explained. Mr. Acland was making Castleknock the 
 girl’s home. 
 
 “ At his age,” said Mrs. Butler, just as the truck ran on, 
 and to save herself she spun wildly into Sandy’s arms. 
 
 “ And not even content with one,” observed Nora as 
 she watched labels being affixed. “ Sandy, I am ashamed 
 of you.” 
 
 Sandy put Mrs. Butler’s arms away from his collar and 
 winked imperturbably. 
 
 Mrs. Butler recovered her dignity with some show of 
 temper. The glimpse of blue skirt, not now a thing 
 which was passing, but which she might see during the 
 summer, upset her mental balance completely. 
 
 “There is surely no necessity,” she said, “to adopt a 
 girl because you are executors of a will she was cut 
 out of.” 
 
 Sandy said there certainly was not, and wished it was 
 time to start. 
 
 The train made leisurely show up the line. It came 
 with jarring of brakes and shrill bellow of whistle, jerking 
 slowly to the platform. 
 
 A first-class carriage decanted a big girl on the plat- 
 form ; she stood looking about her as a small and wiry 
 maid strove to rouse the apathy of Marty the porter 
 towards the litter of boxes and parcels and sweets and 
 magazines in the carriage. 
 
 “ I will — I will get them out. If the Lord’d sind me tin 
 hands — I will, Mrs. Hennessy. I’m cornin’. I cannot say 
 
184 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 where ye’re cod fish is ; there’s for ye now, miss, the bag 
 and the books and all.” 
 
 Miss Hall Marten merely yawned. She was veiled in 
 a swathing of mauve chiffon — the long mauve coat had 
 the savour of London in its cut. She was somewhat 
 elaborately pretty, and she was looking forward to being 
 bored. As a preliminary to it she yawned once more, 
 before she succeeded in offering a slight portion of her 
 mauve veil to Mrs. Butler’s fervent embrace. 
 
 “Yes — it was a tirin’ journey. Much more so than to 
 Scotland. Oh, of course she’s been to Ireland before, both 
 to the Horse Show and to Puncheston, but that was 
 nothin’.” 
 
 Dennis’s stepmother raised her imperious voice to com- 
 mand her son’s presence. He came out, shabby, but 
 good to look at, and Miss Hall Marten stopped yawning. 
 
 “ Dennis,” said Mrs. Stepmother, as Dermot had never 
 come, “ you will drive back with us to luncheon.” 
 
 Dennis said politely that he would be delighted to if 
 Carty the coachman could manage to ride his young 
 horse. 
 
 Miss Hall Marten smiled a vivacious smile through her 
 mist of blue and said she adored ridin’. “ Got three at 
 home,” she said, “all thoroughbreds. ... I want a 
 cigarette.” 
 
 It was tactless of Dennis to say that quality carried 
 more than bone — for all large people are touchy as to 
 their weight. It was Miss Hall Marten’s fancy to imagine 
 herself sylph like. 
 
 Mollie Knox, feeling curiously small and lonely, stood 
 waiting for the crowd to clear and their train to start, 
 while Nora was engaged in arguments with Araminta as 
 to the class they would travel by. 
 
 With a faint smile Mrs. Acland told Sandy to take 
 third-class tickets. Standish Blundell, who was coming 
 with them, said nothing at all — he merely laughed once, 
 with a rending harshness which upset Araminta’s nerves. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 185 
 
 The carriages up to Liscannon junction were partially 
 padded ; they got into a narrow compartment — scented 
 by the memory of strong tobacco, which Araminta sniffed 
 at haughtily, but they were alone save for an elderly woman 
 who said there was a sight of confusion whin trains were 
 goin’ an’ cornin’, and that she was all but left behind in the 
 morning because the gyard was asked to hurry up the 
 thrain to catch a weddin’ in Cahervalley. 
 
 Mollie watched the little platform recede slowly. It was 
 still occupied by a large girl in mauve and a vast pile of 
 expensive luggage. Also by a young man in shabby grey 
 who did not look after the train. 
 
 The children pranced upon most parts of the carriage at 
 once with some idea that the more they moved the quicker 
 they would get to the sea. 
 
 That evening they intended, apparently, to catch shrimps 
 and crabs, to go boating, to paddle, and gather sea-weed. 
 Miss Brown, with patience born of experience and the 
 knowledge that they would do none of these things, sat 
 meekly in a corner, but Araminta and Hildebrand resented 
 their toes being trampled on and also were foolish enough 
 to become involved in an argument as to the absolute 
 impossibility of doing about ten things at once before 
 dark. 
 
 The train grunted and jerked, leaving the more fertile 
 country for a desolate boggy land — running by frowsy 
 hills, and on again to brown-hued wind-swept flats, where 
 the owners of the little squalid cottages hacked a bare 
 livelihood from the bog and rocky slope. 
 
 Hildebrand said he now began to understand Ireland 
 and its true poverty. 
 
 They changed at Liscannon, Sandy leading them to a 
 long row of box-like carriages, with uncushioned seats and 
 openings running all the way along, so that the confiding 
 of secrets was impossible. 
 
 Araminta drank tea at the junction and ate buns. She 
 was generally hungry. She grew thoughtful when she saw 
 
i86 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 the shining wooden seats, but a hint as to changing their 
 tickets was ignored by Nora, who said firmly that it would 
 be extravagant. 
 
 The reek of a strong tobacco drifted along the openings. 
 A crowd of men got into the next carriage, greeting each 
 other cheerily. 
 
 “ An’ how are ye, Misther Harty? How is ye’re 
 illustrious self? ” 
 
 To which Mr. Harty replied, “ Right side up, be jabers,” 
 and further that he would have satisfaction from Timsy 
 Hanrahan if he missed the train with his parcels. “ ‘ There’s 
 the flour and the mail, she will be late,’ says he to me ; 
 4 take your time.’ ‘ She might not be,’ says I, and he only 
 walked off without a wurrd.” 
 
 Fresh greeting for one Flanagan, who came down to 
 them. “ How are ye, Dan Flanagan ? ” 
 
 Misther Flanagan, who was full of habit and jolly 
 looking, replied doubtfully that he was not well at all. “ I 
 am suffering from a financial sickness,” he said, “ and no 
 doctor can cure my complaint.” 
 
 Hildebrand took out his watch. They were already ten 
 minutes late starting. 
 
 He called “ Guard ! ” consequently from the window. 
 
 A plump and jocund individual turned from a conversa- 
 tion with Mr. Martin Harty, and came to the window. 
 
 “ Why,” asked young Mr. Hannyside, “ is the starting of 
 this train delayed ? ” 
 
 The guard looked comprehensively at Martin Harty, and 
 then smiled happily. 
 
 “We might be a trifle late,” he said pleasantly, “but 
 sure, in the passage of the day what is the mather of a 
 handful of minnits.” 
 
 Hildebrand got in his surprise to the platform to explain 
 their value. At that moment a leisurely youth, with several 
 parcels, was pounced on by the guard. “ There is that 
 vilyin Timsy,” he said. “ All in with ye now. All right, 
 Misther Harty— saved agin.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 187 
 
 Timsy, hustled on to the van, was fiercely informed by 
 Harty that the face would be cut from him when next he 
 was encountered. And Hildebrand, in the excitement, was 
 all but left behind — to be flung in through the half open 
 door by a station-master, who reproved him severely for 
 his unpunctuality. “Next time ye’ll miss it,” said that 
 official, banging the door. Hildebrand sat silent, crushed 
 by so much injustice. 
 
 The country they ran into now was wilder still. The 
 hills grew blacker, towering high above them ; they 
 steamed past brown-hued streams rippling and rushing in 
 deep glens, or sliding smoothly through stretches of bog. 
 They jerked up at the tiny stations with jars which brought 
 home the hardness of the seats. 
 
 A fair was taking place at Renvoyle — the platform was 
 crowded, and the third-class carriages grew crammed. 
 Araminta howled with terror when some of these fresh 
 arrivals, getting into the carriage behind the party from 
 Cahervalley, came with a reek of fiery spirits, and after an 
 interval of song, found quarrelling more entertaining, so 
 that sticks whirled and words grew thick. The whirl of a 
 thick blackthorn above the opening made Araminta 
 hysterical ; she sprang upon the seat with some idea of 
 climbing for safety into the compartment of Mr. Harty and 
 his friends, but that gentleman’s genial “ Come on so, miss, 
 we’ll help ye in,” made her get down again and wail 
 " Police ” faintly. 
 
 Sandy said nothing, but Miss Brown had extreme 
 difficulty in preventing Alexander from catching at the 
 sticks as they whirled, with his shrimp net. 
 
 Araminta and Hildebrand both upbraided the Aclands 
 and Standish for their indifference ; and the bump of 
 stoppage at the next station was marked by the frenzied 
 descent of Miss Mellicombe and her rush to the station- 
 master, wailing that several people were murdering each 
 other next door. 
 
 The station-master and porter remarked, “ Bedam to it, 
 
1 88 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 and she late already,” but showed instant interest in the 
 hopes of excitement. “ Murder is it? Did ye see it, 
 miss ? Which ones ? ” 
 
 “ There ! ” gasped Araminta dramatically. 
 
 At that moment, four large men, supporting each other, 
 proceeded from the door of the carriage Araminta pointed 
 to. One of them had a black eye, and another a cut on his 
 cheek, but they were all happily united in a desire for fresh 
 stimulant. 
 
 “ Is it that party — the O’Sheas and the M’Caskys? 
 They had a little drink taken, maybe. For the love of 
 God, Tony, get in the eggs for Travee. Not what, Miss? 
 Let them escape. Look for what ? The dead one — God, 
 help us, there is no dead one. Be aisy with ye’re funnin’, 
 miss.” 
 
 Dragged to the door of the carriage to peer into its 
 slightly bloodstained emptiness, the official said peevishly 
 that he had no time for corpses and nonsense with eggs 
 and luggage on his mind, and Araminta, bewailing the 
 hideous callousness of his nature, was shoved back to her 
 carriage threatening to stop the train by the use of the cord 
 if she found a dead man herself. 
 
 “Ye cannot, because the cord is broke! Give her the 
 bell, Tony — let her off.” 
 
 Unsatisfied, Araminta mounted on the seat to peer fear- 
 fully over the division into an empty compartment. She 
 sat down at last, and looked thoughtful. 
 
 . “ I begin to think,” said Araminta, “ that the Irish are 
 all mad.” 
 
 Nora, patiently enduring the fumes of twist tobacco, said 
 she had understood that Araminta found them so reason- 
 able and sensible. 
 
 Araminta replied gloomily that she would return in a 
 first-class carriage. 
 
 “We get out here,” said Nora, as they steamed into a 
 busy station. 
 
 The rest of their journey was in a steam tramway, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 189 
 
 running along the high road. A weird little line, diving in 
 and out its rails to pigs and children and dogs; its surface 
 scarred with innumerable iron cow-catchers ; its pace that 
 of an average hack. 
 
 But at one side was the sea — wide stretch of green-blue 
 waters, heaving restlessly, breaking softly over reaches of 
 golden sand ; at the other, huge hills towered, black and 
 splendid, frowning down at the atoms of humanity which 
 came crawling past them. Tracks of mountain torrents 
 scarred the sides ; more brown -hued rivers crawled low in 
 their rock-strewn beds, whispering of the hours when they 
 would foam mightily in torrent to the ocean. Here and 
 there the sun touched the sea to silver, the sands to fine 
 gold ; laid light patches on the dark mountain sides. They 
 crawled inland, panting with open throttle along the side 
 of the steep, hanging over the edge of a mountain stream 
 far below, creeping over dizzy bridges— up, and ever up. 
 
 “ It ran away down here once,” said Nora ; “ the brakes 
 wouldn’t hold the train, and it rushed on and on until it 
 was over just here ” — she pointed at the bridge they were 
 crossing — “ so now,” she added, “ they are ordered to stop 
 every minute on the way down. It does make it slow, of 
 course, Hildebrand, but you wouldn’t like to be like the 
 pigs, would you ? ” 
 
 “ Like what ?” said Hildebrand, scenting offence. 
 
 “ Like the pigs,” said Nora. “ Didn’t I say it was pigs 
 went over? They were bringing them down to Travee.” 
 
 The splendour of the hills grew greater. They were in 
 a little unreal railway crawling through the might of the 
 world. A puny piece of daring, setting its little rails on 
 the sides of the steeps, lost in stretches of wild rise and 
 fall, coming back to the road for company lest it should 
 lose heart and get blotted out, left by itself. Stopping at 
 toy stations, panting past carts and cows, whirling little 
 children from its carefully speeded way. Blowing whistles 
 even at foolish ducks and hens which strayed upon its 
 path, and blowing almost apologetically, as if in recogni- 
 
190 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 tion of the fact that it had no right up the highway, but 
 had come there because it grew so lonely out in the 
 country side. 
 
 They toiled and toiled. Hildebrand resented the absence 
 of the motor ; Araminta squeaked whenever she looked 
 out, because she was quite sure they must kill something. 
 “Without a fence, with nothing to protect anything,” said 
 Araminta; “and oh, if it did run backwards and made 
 pigs of us all.” 
 
 The fear of the descent held her dumb as they crawled 
 down towards a sunlit sea. Frowning cliffs dipped their 
 dark feet into surges of translucent green. Surf thundered 
 on flat, golden sands. White sandhills raised their powdery 
 green-flecked crests. Away across the bay the chocolate- 
 hued Killarney mountains could be seen, dark against the 
 evening sky. The air blew fresh and clean and sweet, 
 heather-scented, salt-laden. 
 
 But both Hildebrand and Araminta, as they considered 
 the landscape on their way from the station, looked at it 
 all doubtfully. They asked why there was no pier, and 
 what people found to do at Inchleigh. 
 
 “ They can be glad that they are alive,” said Nora 
 quietly, looking out at the restless waters. 
 
 The little house which belonged to the Aclands crouched 
 on a jutting cliff above the bay. It was too small to hold 
 them all, so Hildebrand was told to get rooms at the hotel, 
 a command which troubled him greatly. 
 
 “It is quite a decent hotel,” said Sandy, “and they’ll 
 oblige you with a room. We know the people ” 
 
 The children rushed forth to try to do a variety of things 
 at once. Found the tide was too high to shrimp, the sea 
 too rough to fish on, the water quite chilly when they 
 walked into it, and, as patient Miss Brown confidently 
 hoped, they came in for the tea they had absolutely refused 
 to take, and went off to bed full of strict resolutions as to 
 getting up at six next morning. 
 
 “Call the children at eight, Maria,” said Miss Brown 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 X 9 T 
 
 placidly. Hildebrand, meantime, was really beginning to 
 know Ireland. He went alone to the pretty little hotel, 
 asked its prices for a small bed, and came out discon- 
 tentedly. He was aggrieved at being put to extra expense. 
 Strolling on down the little streets, he came to a pinkly 
 distempered house, which also proclaimed itself hotel. 
 Here Hildebrand decided he would find cheapness. It 
 was a little stuffy when he got inside ; the odours from the 
 bar were mingled : but he found the prices reasonable. 
 
 A fat and amiable-looking landlady showed him a bed- 
 room, remarking dubiously that there was a sight ov people 
 down for the Sunday. “ If ye had to share it, just for the 
 night,” she said coaxingly ; “ if there was a rush now ? ” 
 
 Hildebrand remarked, with extreme decision, that he 
 would share nothing. He settled the price, engaged his 
 resting-place, and left, sped by sweet smiles from the land- 
 lady, called into the other hotel to say he would not want 
 a room, and he went back to dinner. 
 
 Here he was reticent as to his arrangements. He rated 
 Araminta for smoking several cigarettes. He called her 
 white dress an extravagance for the seaside. He was 
 inclined to quarrel, and Araminta never failed to meet him 
 half way. They wrangled, as usual, as to their respective 
 inheritances, the injustice of their uncle’s will. Hildebrand 
 hinted that the Reverend Eustace was a person of small in- 
 fluence and smaller principal, or he would counsel Araminta 
 to give up her share of a racing stable. Araminta, finger- 
 ing her jet chain, thought less than nothing of Greater 
 Bethel and its teaching. 
 
 “ Nice ducks and drakes you’d make of Northlap,” 
 grumbled Hildebrand, “ if you lived there.” 
 
 “ Better than making half the rooms into spiders’ webs,” 
 retorted Araminta, “ as you would, and never supporting 
 the church there or helping any one who didn’t tune 
 forks.” 
 
 “ It is an eager an a nipping air,” said Standish Blundell 
 sadly. 
 
192 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Sandy said that Shakespeare had got into Standish’s 
 head. 
 
 “ It was the aunt/ 5 said Standish. “ She read five plays 
 to me ; I got quite fond of them afterwards.” 
 
 The ceaseless beating of the sea upon the sands made 
 every one sleepy. At ten Standish got up to go to the 
 hotel ; he had engaged a room there and took Hildebrand 
 with him. He wondered as they walked down the sandy 
 road, with the fresh saltness of the sea stinging coldly, why 
 that youth tried to avoid him and stay behind. 
 
 “ Was it to make it up with Pepperminta ? ” said Standish 
 in his deep voice. 
 
 It was unkind of Sandy’s eldest son to have gravely 
 christened his guests Pepperminta and Fatahanda. 
 
 Hildebrand, studying the lights twinkling in the houses, 
 took his bearings, and bade Standish a curt good-night. 
 
 “ The hotel which I was directed to,” he said stiffly, 
 “ wished to charge me a ridiculous sum. I found a respect- 
 able and cleanly inn down this way kept by a nice, obliging 
 woman, who gave me the best room she could find.” 
 
 Standish lost all desire to sleep. With new-born 
 friendliness he attended Hildebrand to his resting-place. 
 “ I’ll see you settled down,” he said. “ I must.” 
 
 The hostelry of Hildebrand’s choosing seemed to have 
 filled up to overflowing. A medley of voices poured from 
 the open door on the wings of the odours of strong drink. 
 Some one sang a song which nobody listened to, though 
 the singer interposed loud demands for chorus at the end 
 of every verse. 
 
 The landlady looked on with an obliging smile, which 
 thinned faintly when she saw Hildebrand. 
 
 “ He is back,” she confided to some one. 
 
 “ A most obliging woman,” said Hildebrand to Standish ; 
 “ took the greatest trouble.” 
 
 “ She does that for every one,” said Standish softly. 
 
 “ Mary Kate — Andy,” said Mrs. O’Shea, observing Hilde- 
 brand, “ here is the gintleman for No. 6. Pie is airly.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 i93 
 
 Hildebrand backed from the unsanctimonious odours. 
 He looked dubiously at a red-headed youth who possibly 
 shaved on Sundays, and he asked for a candle. 
 
 “ A sight of people,” said Mrs. O’Shea blandly, “ landed 
 in on me to-night. I did my best,” she said to Hildebrand, 
 “ but, sure, heads will have beds. Will ye have any 
 objection now to sleeping with a most respectable solicitor 
 from Travee.” 
 
 The deepening horror on Hildebrand’s face made her 
 smile deepen to positive witchery. 
 
 Standish coughed quietly, but made no comment. 
 
 “ A nate, agreeable man he is,” she said. “ I sorted him 
 out for ye. An’ he should sleep sound. His own mother 
 was a Delaney. There he is, getting sleepy.” 
 
 The descendant of the house of Delaney was seated on a 
 rickety chair, with his feet on the rungs of another. He 
 was clearly not thinking of law ; in fact he was the songster 
 who had called vainly for chorus. 
 
 “ Whin we’re short,” said Mrs. O’Shea, seeing her guest’s 
 expression, “we can put three in the gran’ bed above 
 that I gave ye. I could have to-night, but I knows the 
 gintry is particular, so there’s but two of ye. A most 
 respectable ” 
 
 But Hildebrand had rushed upstairs for his bag. He 
 came down gripping it, and fled into the night, to beg 
 for any corner they would give him to lie in at the Inchleigh 
 Arms. 
 
 “ That was a nice sort of an inn you chose,” said Standish 
 mildly, as he kept pace with Hildebrand’s flying steps. 
 “ You’d never be lonesome for the smell of porter all night, 
 anyhow.” 
 
 Hildebrand gained what repose he could on a hard sofa. 
 
 Soft sunshine fell on Inchleigh in the morning. The 
 clear white crested rollers, memory of a day-old storm, 
 whipping them, came, growing drowsy as they languidly 
 rushed to cream on the firm sands, or froth and fume against 
 the cliffs. The mountains towered above them, shutting 
 
 13 
 
194 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 out cold north winds, fading tints of purple and brown 
 to a pink where the heather bloomed. Fuchsias drooped 
 their crimson bells in the hedges. 
 
 The beach was soon covered with bathers, who dipped 
 and ducked and screamed in time-honoured fashion. 
 
 With a “ Wet ye’re poll, Katie, or ye’ll get a lightness in 
 it. Wet it, I tell ye, girl. Dip, let ye, Susie. Dip, lovey. 
 Is it sand baths ye are out for, Lucy ? Oh ah ! Oh ah ! 
 Maria, is it the wather cruel cold and it running up ye? 
 I axe ye’re pardin*, Mrs. Malone. Ma’am, I never meant to 
 thrip ye ; but sure ye’re dipped now, anyways.” 
 
 But Nora knew a little cove, sheltered and sunny, with 
 deep sand for its carpet, and a cave for dressing in, when 
 they all went to bathe. 
 
 Araminta, radiant in scarlet, with sandals and a coquettish 
 cap, dabbled in two feet of salt water as she recounted 
 what a fine swimmer she was. Nora dropped from a rock 
 into cool green depths and struck off out to where the 
 rollers lifted her as if she had been a cork, with Standish 
 swimming watchfully close by. Sandy had never quite 
 learnt the mastery of the waters, so swam more cautiously 
 in the creek ; the children made various efforts to drown 
 themselves ; and Hildebrand, considering mixed bathing 
 most improper, watched them glumly from the cliff. 
 
 The children splashed happily in the shallows, and the 
 dogs, having bathed themselves into wisps and rolled a 
 great many times in the sand to get dry, then went to 
 sleep on Miss Mellicombe’s clothes, which were coyly 
 hidden behind a rock. Delia kept guard over Nora’s. 
 
 It was unfortunate that on his way back from his swim 
 Standish should have cannoned against Araminta, who 
 was poised coquettishly on a rock, and upset that carefully 
 attired damsel face down into the sea. Also that, instead 
 of showing contrition, he should merely have quoted “ Too 
 much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,” as he watched her 
 struggle to the shallows and fly to dress. 
 
 A long shriek marked the discovery of the dogs, and her 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 >95 
 
 robing was punctuated by constant bobbings of a head 
 above the rocks, with furious comments concerning “ sand 
 in everything. Sand in my blouse, in my stockings, down 
 my back,” wailed Araminta. “ Also they have scratched 
 and torn my ” Here she disappeared. 
 
 “ Dear Nunky Hildie,” said Alexander, coming up to 
 hang about Hildebrand’s neck and upset a large quantity 
 of shells over him, “you doesn’t bathe an’ get cross.” 
 
 “ He gets cross — nother times,” said Kathleen, with the 
 sapiency of woman. 
 
 Hildebrand’s return to the lodge, where a luncheon of 
 mackerel and chicken was ready, was marred by the 
 appearance of a grimy envelope containing a bill upon 
 flimsy paper, the youth who carried it demanding an 
 answer : 
 
 “ O’Shea’s Hotel. One bedroome and attendance 
 4 shillin’. N.B.— Two gentlemin disappointed, so must 
 ask for this.” 
 
 Hildebrand looked at it disdainfully, until Standish 
 counselled him to pay. 
 
 “ With advice from the law in your very bed, she must 
 know it’s right,” said Standish. 
 
 There was peace in the little seaside place. Peace, hand 
 in hand with mighty appetites. 
 
 Standish quoted several times that he knew a bank 
 whereon the wild thyme grew, and also other quotations, 
 which he never got quite correctly, as to the dreadful 
 summit of the cliff. “And then something about beetles,” 
 said Standish sadly, “when one knows it ought to be 
 shrimps ; but Hamlet was a queer chap.” 
 
 The arrival of Phillips and the car opened up the world 
 to them ; they went round the heads and away to other 
 coasts of golden sands and jutting rocks, of purple distances 
 and wind-swept-over heaving seas. 
 
 “ But I fear,” said Hildebrand, his mind running on his 
 inheritance, “ that Watson may neglect the horses during 
 our absence.” 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 Incensed the seas and shores, against your peace. 
 
 — Tempest . 
 
 ILDEBRAND HANNYSIDE opened a letter 
 
 and bounced upon his seat. He said, “ My goodness 
 gracious me,” three times. 
 
 Sandy’s son and heir, looking at him reproachfully, 
 remarked that all his shrimps were upset into his jam, 
 but that he supposed he had better try them together on 
 hot cakes. 
 
 “Mr. Grimes and Mr. Jones are in Ireland! they are at 
 Killarney,” said Hildebrand, “with Miss Grimes. They 
 can come on here. Phillips, get me a form. Phillips, send 
 a telegram for me at once, please, Phillips,” commanded 
 Hildebrand, producing sixpence and writing rapidly. 
 
 “ Ninepence halfpenny, sir,” said Phillips gravely. 
 ‘‘Thank you, sir, one halfpenny still, sir. Much obliged, 
 sir.” 
 
 “ And as we have got Mr. Allenbury,” said Nora, “our 
 last few days will be congested. There are some papers 
 to be attended to,” she added, seeing Araminta glare. 
 
 “ All paid for,” said Araminta sourly, “ in our account 
 with him.” 
 
 Miss Knox then opened a letter which she had read 
 several times, but made no comment. But after breakfast 
 she changed her dress for one of pale blue, and chose a hat 
 of airy fashion. 
 
 When his telegram had been dispatched, Hildebrand 
 hovered on the verge of expectancy through a long, 
 showery morning. Towards luncheon-time he went rush- 
 ing to meet a telegraph boy, and announced in tones which 
 
 196 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 197 
 
 smacked of awe that his friends were coming over from 
 Killarney for the next day. “ They will motor,” he said. 
 “ And,” he looked almost ingratiatingly at Nora, “ if we 
 arranged a picnic to Slavin Head — somewhere near — I will 
 of course help to provide.” 
 
 Nora promised him a picnic somewhat drily, though at 
 breakfast, luncheon, and whenever he could find any one 
 to listen to him, Hildebrand talked with nervous anxiety. 
 He begged Araminta not to smoke, he enlarged on the 
 staid virtues of his elders, and he entreated Standish not to 
 quote Shakespeare. 
 
 “ Mr. Grimes considers him coarse. He preached on it 
 once. He said there was a bald honesty of phrasing 
 which was positively indelicate. He said it was really 
 worse than Swinburne.” 
 
 “ My aunts,” said Standish, “ drew the line at Swinburne. 
 Tell me, now,” said Standish, beaming across the table, 
 “what did he say of Don Juan? I’ve heard of that, and did 
 he preach on the ” 
 
 But Hildebrand coldly left the room. 
 
 “ The more you read the more you can talk of,” observed 
 Standish, sadly relapsing to his breakfast. 
 
 The Castleknock cook knew the obligations of the sea. 
 Mounds of hot cakes, the hopes of dozens of hens, pounds 
 of bacon, occupied her toward morning hours. 
 
 “ An’, God save us, but just enough,” she would remark 
 happily to the parlourmaid, as they cleared away. 
 
 Any levity of dress which Hildebrand had permitted 
 himself was changed for sombre mourning; he came forth 
 in sober black. His straw hat replaced by a bowler, his 
 brown boots by those of jetty hue. 
 
 He stood expectantly upon the sandy road, where a 
 cheerfully spiteful wind swept up wheels of sand inside his 
 collar until the noisiness of a hired motor proclaimed its 
 throbbing approach. 
 
 Before this he had been to the village shop ; sundry 
 knobby parcels had arrived as his share of lunch. 
 
198 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Sandy, looking out of the window, saw Hildebrand 
 eagerly greeting the two stout old gentlemen whom they 
 had seen at Euston, and a buxom girl, disguised behind 
 a motor-veil. When she untied it she revealed a beam- 
 ing pink-cheeked face, china-blue eyes, and frizzy fair 
 hair. 
 
 Miss Grimes did not seem to have been subdued by the 
 religion of Greater Bethel — she was really pleased with 
 life, and her staple speech was, “ Oh, delightful ! ” grafted 
 into a giggle. Sometimes she varied it by “ Most de- 
 lightful ! ” but that was only when the rules of grammar 
 forbade the “ Oh.” 
 
 “Miss Grimes — Mr. Acland,” introduced Hildebrand 
 impulsively. Sandy trusted that Miss Grimes liked Ireland. 
 
 “ Oh, delightful,” said Susannah Grimes, giggling. 
 
 He hoped she had not found Killarney too hot. 
 
 “ No, delightful,” said Susannah. 
 
 Her elders stretched their stout limbs and accepted milk 
 and soda. Mr. Jones took a little whisky in it and left 
 out the milk in deference to some cheese savoury which 
 had not agreed with him. Mr. Grimes added brandy and 
 an egg and left out the soda. 
 
 After this they were introduced to every one, and were 
 charmed to go forth upon a picnic to Slavin Head. 
 
 Standish and Hildebrand were to bicycle. The over- 
 flow of the Aclands party travelled on a hired car, and 
 presently, from the disconsolate aspect of the chauffeur’s 
 face when he raised it from inside the hireling’s bonnet, 
 it appeared that Mr. Jones and Mr. Grimes must do the 
 same. 
 
 “ To be mending her,” said the driver fiercely, “is like 
 tying up hot butter with bits of string,” and he took out 
 some tools viciously. 
 
 On Hildebrand’s asking, “What is it?” the chauffeur 
 returned, “ My laws, what isn’t it ? ” with a screw-wrench 
 held in his teeth. 
 
 The setting forth of a picnic was of a certain sameness. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 199 
 
 It was marked by an array of baskets coming forth to be 
 packed in, and the heated fears of the cook as to her 
 powers of memory. 
 
 “ Mr. Phillips ! The Lord save us, is the cream 
 forgot ? ” 
 
 Mr. Phillips could not say. 
 
 “ For the love of heaven, Mr. Phillips, send your hand 
 in under the cakes and see. I packed it there, in its tin at 
 all, to be safe, between the ginger-loaf and the cold 
 scones. Arrah ! Mary Kate, take the basket off him.” 
 
 “’Tis in, ’tis all right, ’tis in my basket here, Mrs. 
 Cafferty. ’Tis leakin’ down me apern,” shrieked Mary 
 Kate, the parlourmaid, “ and there’s spots on Mr. Phillips, 
 too.” 
 
 This, followed by a dignified adjustment of the cork by 
 Phillips, and a further wail from Mrs. Cafferty to announce 
 that there was the tay oberight her eyes, that she would 
 swhear was up an’ packed. 
 
 Yet somehow most of the things generally got to the 
 picnic. 
 
 It was decided to give the jarvey cars a start. That 
 hired by Mr. Jones, drawn by a pig-eyed grey horse with 
 big feet, had left, when a distant whistle rang eerily. 
 
 “ Who — next ! ” said Sandy. “ Nora — the Butlers — here 
 — what.” He stood open-mouthed. 
 
 The Butlers’ immaculate tourer, pale cream in hue, 
 came slowly into view, Dermot driving, with Miss Hall 
 Marten beside him, Dennis and his stepmother at the 
 back. 
 
 “What — ever brings you here?” finished Sandy, as the 
 car stopped. Mrs. Butler, looking a little wildly at sea 
 and beach, said sonorously that she wished she knew, she 
 really wished it. It appeared they had started for a 
 drive from Rossleigh ; they were at Rossleigh Hotel, 
 and had wanted to get to Travee and so home, and they 
 were — here.” 
 
 “The maps,” said Dermot, with unmixcd gravity, “ are 
 
200 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 most difficult to understand. I did think the car went on 
 too long, but the map confused me.” 
 
 “ And you never asked any one,” said his mother 
 reproachfully — “ none of the country people.” 
 u Dennis,” said Dermot, “ also had a map.” 
 
 Dermot was out of the car talking to Miss Knox. 
 Nora looked comprehensively at the blue dress and hat, 
 and then at the map in Dennis’s hands. Then she 
 smiled. 
 
 As they had lost their way, she suggested the Butlers 
 joining the picnic. The drive was beautiful, the day 
 perfect. 
 
 Mrs. Butler replied haughtily that they must get on and 
 back, and was checked by her son, who feared that some- 
 thing with a long name needed adjustment. “ It would 
 take us for a few miles,” he said doubtfully, looking with a 
 knowing eye at the radiator ; “ but, etc., etc.” 
 
 Miss Hall Marten, very elaborately got up for motoring 
 in pearly grey down to shoes and stockings, said, with 
 a yawn, that the place was quite pretty, and they’d better 
 see it. 
 
 “ Salt and sand,” yawned Miss Hall Marten. “ Garden 
 of Eden on sea and so forth — let’s stay.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler sat in the cream-coloured car and failed to 
 understand why maps should be wrong. Why they should 
 have found themselves at Inchleigh so suddenly, coming 
 right upon the Aclands ? She could at least send the map 
 to the makers and ask for explanation. 
 
 She was still wrapt in infuriated wonder when a fresh 
 start was made. She had even left the door of the 
 Aclands’ cottage before she realized that Phillips, having 
 gently laid in a forgotten basket, took his place at her side 
 and requested politely to be excused. 
 
 “ Mr. Dennis, madam, just gone on on the outside car ; 
 asked me to send a telegram and pick him up, madam.” 
 
 “ Who,” thundered Mrs. Butler, “ would Mr. Dennis wish 
 to telegraph to ? ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 201 
 
 “ I do not recollect, madam,” said Phillips truthfully ; 
 “ merely the sum, half-a-crown, madam.” 
 
 Here Phillips looked thoughtfully at a silver piece in his 
 hand. 
 
 It was of course unfortunate that the second outside car 
 took a precipitous hill road. Turning off before the motor 
 came up, the sturdy pony plodded up a hill, its hoofs 
 scrambling and scraping, which no motor would have 
 cared to face. On the brow they overtook the other 
 party with the pig-eyed grey sternly refusing to face 
 the descent. 
 
 “ ’Tis the way her hindmost leg is bad on him,” said the 
 driver ; “ and the gentry being fearsome, I cannot gallop. 
 If ye would but sit up and be thrustful to me, yer honer, 
 I’d settle her. If we drag her down though, she’ll be apt 
 to kick,” he added unhappily. 
 
 The hill was a sheer descent, carved out of the mountain, 
 with a loose, treacherous surface, sharp corners, and a 
 convenient cliff of grass to slip over on one side. The two 
 elderly gentlemen might have been excused for declining 
 to address it at a furious gallop. 
 
 Hildebrand, it appeared, had insisted on this road being 
 taken. He had toiled up it himself, melting as he came, 
 with his patent leather boots growing fiery on his feet, 
 and his bowler hat appearing to act as focus for the 
 sun’s rays. 
 
 At one side the sea gleamed and flashed blue and 
 glorious. Beyond, the hills tossed and flung their arms 
 against the sky. The air was full of soft scent of honey- 
 suckle, the banks were fresh with heather, stained by 
 red fuchsia tassel, but the pig-eyed grey spoilt the land- 
 scape. 
 
 “ Is — it — not — lovely? ” panted Hildebrand. 
 
 “ Oh, delightful,” said Miss Grimes, a little nervously. 
 
 The pig-eyed grey responded to a smite on his quarters 
 by “ hoisting” nastily. He went four shuffling steps down 
 the slope, and then into the ditch with a sidelong bound. 
 
202 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Mr. Jones asked plaintively how far it would be if they 
 walked. 
 
 “ Let ye sit up,” said Mike the driver. “ Sit up and I’ll 
 see ye don’t walk. Tis six mile, solid.” 
 
 Perhaps it was an extempore prayer which Mr. Jones 
 said as he got on the car and committed his life doggedly 
 to Mike’s charge. 
 
 “If ye are kilt blame me,” said Mike, raising his stick. 
 “ I knows her, the vilyin.” 
 
 The pig-eyed grey endured about a dozen stripes and 
 then recognised defeat. With his spavined and curly 
 hocks bending beneath him he fled into the abyss, the car 
 rocking at his heels. 
 
 “Didn’t I tell ye I’d settle her?” said Mike. “Lay 
 hould, Missy.” 
 
 “ For Heaven’s sake. For Mercy’s sake, easy, 5 ’ wailed 
 Mr. Jones and Mr. Grimes. 
 
 “ If I aises him he will kick,” said Mike, “ she is a rogue 
 from her mother’s tit that grey. I’ll heartin ye,” he added 
 as they swung round a corner on one wheel, with a pre- 
 cipitous heather clad fall, completely unfenced, at one side 
 of the road. 
 
 Mr. Grimes wiped his brow. He looked sadly back 
 towards something black which was visible on the hill. 
 
 “ I trust,” he said to his daughter, “ that Hildebrand has 
 not grown wild over here.” 
 
 “ Oh, delightful,” said Susannah jerkily. “ Oh man, 
 we were just over.” 
 
 “ An inch of a miss is as good as a mile,” returned Mike 
 placidly. 
 
 “ I greatly fear it,” said Mr. Grimes stiffly. “ His face is 
 so flushed and his clothes are absurd.” 
 
 “Didn’t I say I’d land ye there?” said Mike proudly, 
 pulling up the smoking animal, which was he or she as 
 Mike foresaid. “ Here ye are. He will go back well 
 enough.” 
 
 The elders of Greater Bethel got down with manifest 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 203 
 
 relief. They were uneasily prepared to be shocked by the 
 worldlings they had come amongst, but they were not so 
 narrow-minded as Hildebrand would have made them 
 out. Suspicion of Ireland and the Irish was their chief 
 idea. 
 
 Luncheon was laid out then on a carpet of heather ; 
 the mountains towered behind them, the sea could be seen 
 far below. 
 
 “It seems about everywhere here. How delightful,” said 
 Miss Grimes. She went off to look for white heather with 
 Dennis, who, having shed his fawn coat, shone forth in 
 flannels of sickly green. He showed a distinct desire to 
 avoid his mother ; that lady sitting in the majesty of 
 perplexed offence upon a pile of cushions. Miss Hall 
 Marten smoked cigarettes and yawned intermittently, 
 “ All outdoors/' she said, “ was very tryin’.” 
 
 Phillips and Miss Brown did all the work, occasionally 
 assisted by the children and the dogs ; the former managed 
 to put down an apple pie upside down, and the latter 
 successfully annexing half a cold duck. 
 
 Miss Mellicombe, posed nymphlike on a rock, invited 
 attention to her purple shoes, and read “ Self Denial ” by 
 the Rev. Arthur Eustace. 
 
 “ I only trust,” said Mr. Grimes, “ I trust, Mr. Acland, 
 that my friend Hildebrand has not changed over here.” 
 
 u He has not,” said Sandy with emphasis. 
 
 “ The influence,” said Mr. Grimes, unconvinced, “ the wild 
 air. His good nature might induce a mingling with the 
 people.” 
 
 “ I have done no such thing,” said Hildebrand loftily. 
 
 His patent leather boots seemed to have shrunk by two 
 sizes since he started, his complexion was mostly purple ; 
 the bowler appeared to be made of iron across the fore- 
 head. Also, his snowy collar had grown limp. 
 
 Hildebrand wrestled for coolness with this imputation of 
 his elders, drawing it away successfully. 
 
 “ I dislike the people,” he said. “ I find them sober 
 
204 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 and not funny. I would not mix with them, the 
 wretches. . . 
 
 “ My Laws — there now,” said Mike. “ In she is. Into 
 the green bog. God save us.” 
 
 “ Miss Grimes,” said Phillips, who was among the salad 
 dressing. “ I trust there is no danger, sir.” 
 
 Susannah was being reft by Dennis from the grimy 
 embraces of a treacherous piece of slime. 
 
 She came in jerks to safety, with her feet and ankles 
 streaming with liquid mud. 
 
 “ Gracious. Oh never mind. IPs delightful, 1 ” said Miss 
 Grimes. 
 
 “ Stupid thing bog,” yawned Miss Hall Marten, watching. 
 “ Give her a cigarette.” 
 
 “ I see an ass near to drown there once,” said Mike to 
 Patsy his fellow. 
 
 “ The craythur,” said Patsy. 
 
 Phillips, full of resource, suggested that Miss Grimes 
 should take off her stockings to let them be washed and 
 dried in the sun. 
 
 Miss Grimes, the fortunate possessor of pretty feet, ac- 
 cepted the situation blandly, giggling gently when her 
 father, shocked by the occurrence, took a table napkin 
 from the basket and strapped it about her ankles. 
 
 “ Did you ever see any one so good humoured in your 
 life?” said Dermot to his stepbrother. “Now, did you? 
 I’ve splashed all my flannels too getting her out.” 
 
 Dennis looked at a small blur of blue perched on a rock 
 and sighed. Miss Knox, assuredly enough, had not proved 
 very good humoured. Miss Hall Marten's somewhat tired 
 good looks appeared to focus Mollies eyes. Mollie had 
 asked Dennis if he’d learnt heaps about society, and if he 
 didn’t think tall girls were more attractive than small, and 
 she was generally peppery. 
 
 Lunch had commenced when another hack car topped 
 the rise. It carried an elderly gentleman in dark blue, 
 who waved to them eagerly. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 205 
 
 “ Gracious ! I’d forgotten Mr. Allenbury,” said Nora. 
 
 “ He came on the train.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury walked actively across the lumpy ground. 
 He raved as to air and sea and mountains. He told 
 Hildebrand that he had grown fat, and he hoped Araminta 
 liked Ireland. 
 
 “ Extraordinary,” he said, “ the fascination of racing ; you 
 two now, couldn’t let your horses out of your sight, and at 
 first you were against it.” 
 
 Mr. Grimes looked with fresh surprise at Hildebrand. 
 Lobster, ginger beer, hot air and patent leather had 
 painted that blameless youth a generous crimson-lake. 
 
 The elders drank Perrier at lunch. Grimes, whose 
 wittiness was tempered by a saving sense of humour, 
 explained in an undertone to Sandy that he never obeyed 
 his doctor’s orders in public. 
 
 “ Elderly men,” he murmured, “ require a little stimulant, 
 but before youth I preserve example.” 
 
 “You know , Allenbury,” said Hildebrand peevishly, 
 “ you know I own this stud under protest. To please my 
 dead uncle,” stormed Hildebrand, “ who, if he could rise 
 from his grave ” 
 
 “ Oh, delightful ! ” said Miss Grimes, alluding to a helping 
 of chicken. “ I like bones, really ; yes, delightful.” 
 
 Hildebrand turned a countenance of fiery pain upon 
 Susannah Grimes ; he sighed, and said he thought she was 
 unkind. 
 
 “ But you really love ’em, horses I mean,” said Allen- 
 bury, “both of you. And I hear you go racing, Hildebrand, 
 and get taken for bookies, and ride.” 
 
 “ In an awful state for riding,” boomed Mrs. Butler deeply. 
 “ An affair which might have been a tragedy is not one to 
 discuss with levity, Mr. — er— Allenbury. If he had fallen 
 under the wheel instead of on tome for instance, poor youth.” 
 
 Mr. Jones, worthy preacher and elder, got up slowly. 
 He looked at sea and mountain, then he looked at 
 Hildebrand, then he sighed. 
 
2o6 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ I have argued many times that any association with 
 horse racing would drive anyone to the — er — ahem — well — 
 devil,” said Mr. Jones grimly. “ The influences of our 
 little meeting-house are, I fear, deeply needed.” 
 
 “ Funny places, aren’t they ? ” yawned Miss Hall Marten. 
 “ All go as you please and talkin’ out of your heads, don’t 
 you, and all frightfully good, aren’t you? Have a 
 cigarette ? ” 
 
 “ I do not smoke,” said Mr. Jones stiffly. 
 
 “Pity,” said Miss Hall Marten, “soothin’, y’know ; they 
 wouldn’t make you sick.” 
 
 Sunshine, lobster, duck and many other things com- 
 bined with clear fresh air coming softly over sea and 
 mountain, make the middle-aged sleepy and the young un- 
 duly active. They were driving on for tea. Mrs. Butler 
 put the hood up and went to sleep in her car. Sandy, 
 Nora, and Mr. Allenbury chose a spot sheltered by a 
 jutting rock carpeted by springing heather, and sat there 
 smoking. 
 
 The young people wandered off about the hills, and 
 Miss Hall Marten getting up called to Mollie. 
 
 “ Come and see Ozones unlimited with me,” she said 
 with a yawn. “ London’s really much fresher, isn’t it ? ” 
 
 Mollie shook her blue hat. 
 
 “ Really is,” said Evelina, “ electric fans, an’ somethin’ 
 to do. Don’t know why I came here, mother made me, 
 said I was run down. Beastly birds all day, doin’ choir 
 practice at five, and gettin’ on to mouth organs o’ nights. 
 Goin’ home soon,” said Miss Hall Marten, “ thank 
 goodness, I like Dennis though,” she added. “ Have a 
 cigarette ? ” 
 
 “ Oh, indeed,” said Mollie stiffly. 
 
 “ Not a bad boy. If he had some money and clothes, 
 might ask him to England next year, or over for the 
 cubbin’. Great treat for him, eh? ” 
 
 “ Great, of course,” said Mollie, pulling up heather 
 ruthlessly. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 207 
 
 Miss Hall Marten had been down, she said languidly, 
 the place made her giddy, and having powdered her face 
 carefully, she strolled away yawning to look for Dennis. 
 When Dennis slipped from behind some boulders to join a 
 small figure in blue, it was quite five minutes before he got 
 anything but “ yes ” or “ no ” for a reply. 
 
 Mollie would not admire the view ; she would not look 
 for white heather ; she would not walk on across the hills to 
 the trysting-place for tea. 
 
 She said she was sure that Dennis was very tired ot 
 country life, and would really be happier in a town. She 
 went lightly across tussocks and hills back to the others, 
 and removed Dermot from admiring Miss Grimes’s feet 
 
 Miss Grimes, screaming pleasantly, then joined the 
 Aclands. 
 
 “ How delightful,” she said, sitting down, “ place all 
 little tickles, oh, delightful ” — and she held up a pretty 
 bare foot. 
 
 Behind the face of this exclamation lay occasional 
 items of information. They learned something of the 
 dullness of Lesser Cheriton, and the austerity of the 
 Greater Bethelites. There Hildebrand, it appeared, was 
 almost painfully good. At this point Mr. Grimes woke 
 up and joined them, and they went on : Mr. Grimes said 
 they had hoped that Hildebrand would yet lead the order. 
 Now that riches were thrust on him, they were full of 
 expectations. 
 
 “ That is — if ” said Mr. Grimes — “ there is an altera- 
 
 tion in appearance. My cousin and I are nervous ; there 
 are several worthy youth in Lesser Cheriton.” Here he 
 looked meaningly at Susannah. “ But riches have power 
 for good.” 
 
 Hildebrand limped painfully into sight. Delicacy, which 
 he felt sure would be appreciated and understood, had kept 
 him away from Miss Grimes’s bared feet, but seeing her 
 seated on a mound, with their whiteness gleaming un- 
 veiled against the moss, he thought that he might join the 
 
2oS 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 group. Susannahs round blue eyes grew thoughtful as he 
 stumbled and limped along. She showed no undue plea- 
 sure, but made anxious inquiries for her shoes and 
 stockings. She appeared to grow suddenly weary of 
 sitting still. Hildebrand tried to forget his boots as he 
 looked at Miss Grimes’s peachy cheeks, and he stood beside 
 her. 
 
 “Your arrival here,” he said, “was a great and un- 
 expected joy.” 
 
 “Oh, delightful,” said Miss Grimes absently. “We’d 
 settled weeks ago about Killarney.” 
 
 “ I have been weary,” said Hildebrand rather loudly, so 
 that every one should hear, “ away, forced away from the 
 life I crave. Forced among horses.” 
 
 “ Yes, delightful ,” said Miss Grimes eagerly. 
 
 Mr. Grimes hoped in heartiest tones that the future 
 winner of the National was not like the grey jarvey 
 horse. 
 
 “To my mind,” said Hildebrand, “ all horses are alike. 
 For example, I could not have told whether the one I rode 
 once was black or grey or white.” 
 
 The elder looked at a large dark cliff on the mountain. 
 
 “ As bad as that,” he said, in what he believed to be a 
 whisper. “ Oh, Susannah. My dear child.” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury put a piece of heather hurriedly into his 
 mouth, and tried to pretend it choked him. Standish 
 brayed without comment, and Hildebrand’s face grew 
 purple red. 
 
 “ Stockings, miss, quite dry,” said Phillips, coming up ; 
 “ shoes still exceedingly damp, require new lace, miss, very 
 sticky.” 
 
 Miss Grimes, executing a dexterous wheeling movement, 
 put on her stockings ; the wet shoes were extremely 
 troublesome. She walked in one until Dermot Butler and 
 Mollie arrived, and then Dermot had to come over to help 
 her. It took quite an appreciable time to get both on, 
 Miss Grimes saying, “ Oh, thank you, delightful,” at each 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 209 
 
 pull. Hildebrand, who had gone hurriedly away when 
 Phillips came with stockings, now returned to remark at 
 length that he feared the shoes were tight. 
 
 With sudden, curious ease Miss Grimes slipped her feet in. 
 “ Tight shoes,” she said, “ spoil the feet.” 
 
 “ And yours don’t want to look smaller than they are,” 
 said Dermot, proving his nationality. 
 
 “ So dreadfully hot,” said Miss Hall Marten, as they 
 woke her up. “Was dreaming I was at the Carlton for 
 supper ; lots of air there, always. No heather, no bees ; 
 charmin’.” 
 
 The party packed itself up to move on for tea ; this, for 
 a change, was to be partaken of on the seashore. 
 
 During the packing Sandy listened to Miss Grimes giving 
 some further information as to Hildebrand’s mother. Oc- 
 casionally, it appeared, the young lady got beyond the 
 chorus of “ Oh, delightful.” 
 
 “ She was gooder than good, also delightful,” said Miss 
 Grimes. “ He takes it all from her, you see. Yes. She 
 wanted to preach, you know, in the tabernacle, but they 
 said she’d giggle. Oh she never let Hildebrand go any- 
 where, and he had a maid, or a man when he grew up to go 
 to his uncle’s. She was really too good to live, so she died. 
 Oh, delightful,” said Miss Grimes. 
 
 “ No doubt,” said Sandy in the background. 
 
 Miss Grimes hurriedly, and with a cheerful giggle, said 
 she meant delightful to apply to the goodness. 
 
 “ Oh, not her being dead,” said Susannah. “ She did 
 that in a rage because a maid stayed out till ten. She felt 
 it so much she had a fit. Oh, de ” 
 
 Here Miss Grimes closed her mouth firmly before the 
 “ lightful ” made its way out. 
 
 The pig-eyed grey started, with a glance which was a 
 blend of malice and resignation fixed on his driver’s whip. 
 Wedged in between two other cars, he made a virtue of 
 necessity, and plodded unwillingly along the road. 
 
 Mrs. Butler, waking up sleepily bewildered with the 
 
210 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 indigestion which picnic luncheons are responsible for, 
 could not understand why a buxom maiden with china- 
 blue eyes should now occupy the seat by her son Dermot, 
 and Miss Hall Marten yawn peacefully at her hostess's 
 side. 
 
 “ Dennis? " said his stepmother inquiringly. 
 
 “ Walkin’ over mountains,” yawned Miss Hall Marten, 
 “ or drivin' on an outside car, or somewhere,” finished 
 the young lady sleepily. “ No use offerin' you a 
 cigarette ? ” 
 
 The elders of Greater Bethel muttered to each other 
 across the well of the car as they drove on. They were not 
 satisfied about something. 
 
 Hildebrand and Standish, the bicyclists, had started first, 
 for Standish knew a short cut across the mountain which 
 he advised taking. 
 
 The short cut included a cart track laid on sharp-cut 
 stones, with bog lands at either side. It was impossible to 
 ride on, and the patent leather boots were red-hot casings 
 of iron on Hildebrand’s feet. His colour deepened as his 
 temper shortened. When at length he climbed painfully 
 on to his bicycle, he announced drearily that he would ride 
 across Hades rather than get off again. 
 
 He saw no beauty in crisp turf, bejewelled with eye- 
 bright ; in brown spotted rocks, heather smothered ; in 
 tangle of sweet honeysuckle ; in lush ferns peering from 
 shady nooks, with fairy bell plants beside them ; in gurgle 
 of turf-coloured mountain streams, as they whispered to the 
 banks of the days when the rain made them potential 
 torrents ; of smoky distances, mist veiled across the restless 
 sea. To him it was a bare and torturing road, fit only for 
 goats. 
 
 “ If the brakes hold," said Standish sadly, looking over 
 the brim of the track, “ you may keep it up." 
 
 They bumped and slid between high rocks until their 
 laneway turned out on to a better road. It wheeled on it 
 at a steep descent leading to the sea, past a small cluster of 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 21 I 
 
 houses. Several men, having probably caught some fish in 
 the morning, were playing pitch-and-toss in the road. 
 
 The bicycles had gained a giddy speed. Hildebrand at 
 another time would have shouted as well as rung his bell ; 
 in his peevish humour he clicked at the bell, found it 
 partially out of order, and rode on in careless wrath. 
 
 His “ Hi, there ! you fools ! ” coming several seconds too 
 late, the result was a jarring collision with a gigantic black- 
 haired man, who yelled, dashed his hand against his face, 
 and removed it stained with red. 
 
 Some part of the machine had peeled a large patch of 
 skin off the countryman’s cheek, and another had partially 
 closed one eye. 
 
 “ There’s for you now,” said Standish, as a wave of angry 
 men engulfed Hildebrand, and he himself stood hidden 
 behind a rock. 
 
 “ Stravegin’ down the hill without a word. In on the 
 top of us. Killin’ dacent min as if the road was yours ! ” 
 they shouted. 
 
 Here Hildebrand, finding an opening, did not improve 
 matters by declaiming that it was certainly not theirs to 
 play pitch-and-toss on. 
 
 “ Countin’ our airnin’s,” said a spokesman loftily. 
 “ Countin’ ’em quiet an’ dacent. An’ Magennis without a 
 face now to see with.” 
 
 Hildebrand gurgled in his throat. One does not usually 
 count money by spinning it upwards, with a yell of 
 “ Heads ! ” — but he grew confused and frightened. If he 
 had been apologetical he would have been taken in good 
 part ; anger is a poor weapon to use in Ireland. 
 
 “ ’Twill be a mather of a hundred pound,” said Magennis 
 thickly. “ There isn’t a tooth or an eye in me head this 
 minnit.” 
 
 Hildebrand raved at them feebly. He pointed out the 
 transient nature of the injuries ; his endeavour to prove the 
 existence of the gleaming row behind Magennis’s fierce 
 moustache was quieted by an upraised fist. 
 
212 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ Is it a colt he takes me for,” roared the giant mightily, 
 “ to be rachin’ up at me mouth? A hundred pound ! A 
 man’s head gone from him, an’ his eye rowlin’ like an alley 
 taw to the say.” 
 
 Here, amid a sympathetic but threatening chorus, Stan- 
 dish’s bray of laughter was fortunately smothered. 
 
 Hildebrand tried to mount his bicycle and failed. 
 
 “For Heaven’s sake, you Blundell!” said Hildebrand. 
 “ I say I will go on. I will not be detained by these 
 savages.” 
 
 “Ye will not, but ye will march it to the polis,” said 
 some one, “ and if ye say two wurrds yir own eye might 
 be afther Andhrews’ here. The craythur, blinded for 
 life.” 
 
 “ Blundell,” wailed Hildebrand. “ I rang my bell. You 
 are witness. They would not move. I am really sorry, 
 but I decline blame. I ” 
 
 “ Tomsy Fennessy,” said Standish, coming into the circle, 
 “ let you settle it.” 
 
 As angry seas fall smoothly before oil, so the tempest 
 died at sight of Standish. Tomsy Fennessy was one of his 
 pet fishermen. 
 
 “ Misther Blundell ! ’Tis only some foolsome soort uv a 
 tourist he has with him. Go aisy now, Magennis. There 
 is not so much of ye losht at all.” 
 
 “ A hundred pound,” stammered Mr. Magennis in 
 whisky-scented accents. 
 
 He sat down upon the bank with majestic determination, 
 and he added, pointing to a shell gleaming in the road, 
 “ that, be gripes ! he had one of his teeth to walk up for a 
 witness, anyways.” 
 
 “ They — they will sue me,” almost whimpered Hilde- 
 brand, backing to Standish. 
 
 Standish said that it looked like it. “ When a man’s eye 
 is away down the road,” he said, “ and his front teeth lying 
 among the gravel.” 
 
 “ But, my God ! they have not a leg to stand on,” groaned 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 213 
 
 Hildebrand. “ They were in the wrong. He has his eye. 
 His teeth are in. The law ” 
 
 Standish, in melancholy tones, asked Hildebrand if he 
 had ever been up before an Irish magistrate, who was 
 probably a cousin of the plaintiff. 
 
 “ I have,” said Standish, when Hildebrand had shaken 
 his head. 
 
 As mountain mist soaks slowly but surely through all it 
 meets, so fear soaked in upon Hildebrand’s heart. He saw 
 the group of faces. He recognized the fact that he was an 
 alien in a lawless land, and that justice would not be his. 
 
 “ But they must swear,” he whispered, “ take oath.” 
 
 Standish yawned as he remarked that that would be no 
 trouble to them. 
 
 “ And his eye,” Hildebrand groaned, “ his eye is not out, 
 and his lost tooth is a sea-shell.” 
 
 “ He’ll lay a patch over it and say it is. His sister is 
 married to the doctor,” said Standish dispassionately. 
 
 Fight, as starch before damp, left Hildebrand’s mind. 
 He crumpled up mentally, to stand upon the road and call 
 for the justice of England. 
 
 “ Well, Tomsy Fennessy,” said Standish, grinning. 
 
 Tomsy Fennessy said judicially that Magennis’s injuries 
 were terrible entirely, and like to cause his death. “ But 
 the eye was half gone ov him before,” confided Tomsy, 
 “ with a crack he got from a rock, and the scrape on his 
 cheek ’ll but cool him, so, as Mr. Blundell was a personal 
 friend and patron, begonnes, Andy had drink in, and a few 
 glasses more dhrunk friendly, might settle it all payee- 
 able.” 
 
 Andrew Magennis grunted that he would not make a 
 liar of his friend. 
 
 “This might be better than a hundred pounds,” said 
 Standish to Hildebrand. “ Take your chance now.” 
 
 As a man in a nightmare, Hildebrand moved with the 
 crowd, Andrew Magennis staggering by his side, urged to 
 friendliness by the hope of whisky. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 214 
 
 A slated house proclaimed that it was “ Licensed for 
 Sale,” etc., and here they stopped. There was a grassy 
 knoll outside. 
 
 Hildebrand absolutely refusing to go in, a stout, red- 
 headed damsel brought out glasses and bottles. 
 
 “ Sit down, let ye,” commanded Magennis. “ Sit down ! ” 
 he blared to Hildebrand. “ Frinds is frinds, or else they 
 is innimies.” 
 
 Hildebrand sat down hurriedly, for at the intervals of his 
 friendliness Magennis muttered “ A hundred pounds ! ” with 
 a cunning blend of threat and regret. 
 
 “ For frindship,” said the giant, holding out a glass to 
 Hildebrand. 
 
 “ I can’t — I am — I can’t ! ” almost wailed the youth ; but 
 at a murmuring roar he hastily seized the glass and sipped 
 feverishly, looking round wildly. 
 
 “ They won’t come down this road ; they can’t drive it,” 
 said Standish soothingly. “ A weak one for me, boys. 
 My head’s unsteady.” 
 
 The said weak one he spilt cunningly upon the ground, 
 while Hildebrand, in the centre of the group, sipped 
 nervously. Two sips made his face redder, his boots an 
 agony. With a sudden movement he ripped at the buttons 
 and loosed his feet of the black patent-leather vices. The 
 relief made him almost amiable. He urged more whisky 
 on Magennis as he wagged his crumpled toes to and fro. 
 The sip of unwonted stimulant soothed him. He felt there 
 was cunning in it to get off for nothing. Perhaps a few 
 shillings for these drinks, and no more. 
 
 “ Is it Three Star ? ” said Magennis doubtfully. “ Is it 
 Three Star, I say, Tomsy ? ” 
 
 “ Drink it down,” counselled some one. “ ’Tis the best, 
 anyways.” 
 
 An ill-humoured commencing “ A hun— der,” made Hil- 
 debrand snatch at the bottle. “ If the man wishes it,” he 
 said; “is it Three Star? Hi, there, you girl! Is it 
 Three ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 215 
 
 “ ’Twill make you see three stars an’ you dhrinks it,” 
 boomed a big fisherman grumpily. “ Make you see three 
 sthars, I tell ye ” 
 
 Hildebrand held the bottle towards Magennis. 
 
 There are moments when one feels the presence of an 
 audience. 
 
 It did not take the horrified cough behind him to make 
 Hildebrand wheel and look. Standish had melted into the 
 shadow of the fuchsia hedge, which shook as from a passing 
 storm. 
 
 - On the height overlooking the public-house stood the 
 two elders of Greater Bethel, Miss Grimes, Mrs. Butler, Miss 
 Hall Marten, Sandy, Mr. Allenbury, and Araminta. 
 
 They had come the lower road and walked across the 
 hills while tea was getting ready. 
 
 “ Make ye see three sthars,” boomed Mr. Magennis 
 drunkenly. “I tell ye, whippersnapper 1 Frindship — a 
 hundred pound. A lost eye — no ofifince to frien’ ov Misther 
 Blundell’s — lose two for his like — com — sa— tion. Make 
 on with that drink, Mary Anne ! ” he roared, suddenly 
 growing coherent ; “ the young gentleman, me frind, an’ 
 meself has our glasses impty.” Blood-stained, black-eyed, 
 he wound a huge arm about Hildebrand’s neck. 
 
 “ How delightful,” said Miss Grimes aloud. 
 
 With horror creeping down his back, Hildebrand stag- 
 gered to his bootless feet. He looked at the watching 
 group ; he stood with his glass in his hand, open-mouthed, 
 as though some hideous spasm of wit prompted him to 
 toast them. 
 
 “ Oh, Hildebrand ! ” said Allenbury. 
 
 “ As I feared,” said Mr. Grimes very clearly. “ Influence 
 has been too much for him. Ladies, let us withdraw .” 
 
 “ There is a pig or something caught in that hedge,” said 
 Araminta. “ See how the leaves are shaking — just two or 
 three bushes alone there.” 
 
 A gull-like wail from Miss Brown drifted across the hill, 
 calling that tea was ready. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 216 
 
 When Hildebrand looked again there was no one there. 
 
 Mr. Magennis fell away from his friend's neck to clasp a 
 new bottle of whisky. 
 
 Hildebrand slipped slowly towards the road. 
 
 “ With what he has in him now,” said Tomsy Fennessy, 
 following, “ I can settle it with him for tin shillin’s, and if 
 yer honour gives me another pound for the drinks ” 
 
 Hildebrand, with tears in his eyes, laid two pounds in 
 the big brown hand. 
 
 “ An' ye’re boots,” said a voice, “ ye’re dandy boots that 
 nipped ye.” 
 
 From somewhere, as the audience had turned away, rose 
 a deep voice speaking in sonorous brogue. 
 
 i( They yclept us drunkards, and indeed it takes from our 
 achievements.” 
 
 Mr. Jones paused, took out a note-book, and wrote in an 
 entry. 
 
 “ I had absolutely no idea that the Irish peasants were 
 readers of Shakespeare,” he said. 
 
 Sandy then looked back at the hedge with complete 
 comprehension. 
 
 “ What I cannot understand,” said Araminta, “ is why he 
 took off his boots.” 
 
 “ Oh, delightful ! ” said Miss Grimes. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 So did this horse excel a common one, in shape and courage, colour, pace 
 and bone. — Venus and Adonis . 
 
 “ TF you are going to stay here without a horse/’ said 
 
 X Standish, “ you will have every one laughing at you — 
 
 I tell you that — there’s the black mare, now.” 
 
 Hildebrand shivered visibly at the memory of the black 
 mare. 
 
 “ Man, it’s September — and you must hunt,” went on 
 Standish. “ Are you going to warm your pretty feet at 
 the fire while ours are all in boots ? Were you ever so 
 proud of them,” observed Blundell gloomily, “as when 
 Tomsy Fennessy’s boots made a pair of leather canoes for 
 them — with pale-blue socks on you, too, you in your 
 mourning ! ” 
 
 Hildebrand reddened angrily. Standish was referring 
 to the hideous hour when he had sat in his socks with 
 Magennis’s arm around his neck, and the sequel of the 
 patent leather boots absolutely refusing to be forced back 
 on his swollen feet, so that he stood shoeless until the 
 kindly loan of Tomsy’s had placed leather between him 
 and the world. 
 
 The memory of that tea . still crisped chilly in Hilde- 
 brand’s memory. This Ireland was a hateful place — filled 
 with suspicion and contumely. Yet he was chained to it 
 by his stud. He was not an agreeable paying guest — his 
 monthly cheque — he was careful not to pay it weekly — was 
 signed with manifest reluctance. Occasionally he would 
 cross small sums off. 
 
 “ Less one day — away — only breakfast. Less price of 
 socks, eaten by terrier, and so forth. 
 
 217 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 218 
 
 A spirit of dissension flapped his black wings over 
 Castleknock. Araminta and Hildebrand lived to quarrel 
 with each other, and unite against any one else. Little 
 Mollie Knox, kept there almost against her will, could 
 have told of a certain wastage of tears, shed privately after 
 interviews with Miss Mellicombe. 
 
 It is not pleasant to be told that you are an interloper 
 and a hanger-on, that you are unfitting yourself for the 
 position you must occupy in life. 
 
 “ Of course you may marry,” said Araminta, “ a poor 
 doctor or a curate — ten shillings a week will nearly pay 
 your housekeeping bills, but you should go where you 
 can meet them, Mary Knox. The clergyman here,” said 
 Miss Mellicombe, “ even if he was single, is outside 
 thought.” 
 
 Big Mr. Kelly, wrestling with the difficulties of three 
 parishes, ten children, and an untidy wife, was despised by 
 a young lady of High Church proclivities. 
 
 “ I found him washing his own surplice last Saturday,” 
 said Araminta almost fiercely. “ He said his wife was ill, 
 and the girl had gone away, and he must be clean.” 
 
 “ I know, I ironed it for him,” said Mollie. “ I was in 
 there that day.” 
 
 It was not pleasant at Castleknock. Phillips confided 
 the fact to Watson, and Watson replied, “ Wot could you 
 expect with them two in blinkers on the course.” 
 
 Hildebrand had taken some time to recover from the 
 injustice by the sea. His elders stayed on for three days, 
 unveiling a manner which showed him to be under a 
 cloud — it hung about him grey and dreary. His endeavour 
 to pursue his suit was frustrated by many things — his 
 constant explanations of how he had come to be on such 
 terms with Magennis were always received in marked 
 silence. 
 
 Hildebrand smarted under injustice during the three 
 days at Inchleigh, and it did not make his temper sweeter. 
 His interviews with Allenbury were of a stormy nature. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 219 
 
 He signed papers under protest; he marked over every 
 item of expenditure. The monthly bills of the racing 
 stable nearly made him weep. 
 
 Mr. Allenbury, when asked how much percentage a 
 lawyer got upon it all, would probably have developed 
 apoplexy if he had been fat enough — as it was, he only 
 whispered libel to himself between clenched teeth. 
 
 Hildebrand found that Miss Grimes possessed a gift for 
 drifting away from such trysts as he made with her. 
 
 The difficulty of mending the Butlers’ motor left them 
 at the hotel for two days, and Susannah and Dermot, or 
 Mollie and Dermot, were constantly taking trial trips to 
 see if the car would run. It was then taken into a shed 
 and pronounced nearly right, but still requiring ad- 
 justment. 
 
 On the night before the Grimeses left again for England 
 Hildebrand, growing desperate, arranged a meeting on the 
 moonlit shore — he was weary of frustration by godless 
 young men. He went there, hurrying down across the 
 sands to the rocks, standing out black against a silver 
 sea, to be confronted by two shadows, which moved as he 
 came up, and again by two others, but no giggle made 
 music to the moon. 
 
 When Hildebrand had walked sulkily across several 
 reaches of sands, he went home again to find later that 
 Miss Grimes had apparently waited for him somewhere — 
 she was not sure where — for quite ten minutes, and had 
 then strolled up on the cliffs, alone and offended. She did 
 not hint at a companion. 
 
 In the long days Mr. Jones, worthy elder, showed a 
 great desire to impress Mollie Knox with the calm joys 
 of life at Lesser Cheriton. He explained how the birds 
 sang there, and the bees hummed in peaceful sanctity, 
 while in winter fires flashed in cosy rooms, with no 
 prophetic warning in their glow to the followers of the 
 Greater Bethel religion. 
 
 Mr. Jones did not go out at night, but he instructed 
 
220 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Mollie how to play chess when the evenings were wet ; 
 the men, borrowed from the hotel, lacked several ivory 
 warriors. A black knight had to be replaced by a pepper- 
 mint bullseye ; a white castle by a cotton reel — one queen 
 was frail in delicate tracery, the other mended by blobs 
 of wax. 
 
 When Mollie saw the black knight melting and absently 
 ate him, confusion had reigned direly — so altogether the 
 visit to the sea had not lacked incident, and Hildebrand 
 brooded over it deeply. 
 
 He was torn between his desire to flee back to Greater 
 Bethel, so that he might wipe the escutcheon of his fair 
 fame clean, and the fear of leaving the horses alone at 
 Droveen. 
 
 Allenbury, duly dignified, had looked at him coldly as 
 they parted. 
 
 “You consider this ten shillings a week sufficient for 
 a girl who was taught to look upon herself as an heiress ?” 
 he said. 
 
 Hildebrand considered it ample. It was a gift — free of 
 income tax. 
 
 “ Someday,” said Allenbury, “you and Miss Mellicombe 
 may be sorry.” 
 
 “ When Red Fancy has won his race and I have my full 
 income, I may increase the sum,” said young Hannyside 
 sulkily. “ But I do not approve of Miss Knox.” 
 
 “ Oh, you wouldn’t,” said Allenbury quickly. “ Good-bye.” 
 
 All this lay behind. Now Hildebrand, standing on the 
 gravel at Castleknock, was urged to buy a horse. 
 
 “ They’ll laugh at you,” said Standish, “ if you don’t 
 hunt. Sandy and Nora and the Butlers will all laugh.” 
 
 Hildebrand looked at the saddle. He had heard a 
 whisper of Miss Grimes being invited to Castle Butler 
 during the winter. He thought of riding past her, with 
 doughty courage, as she drove in a motor. 
 
 “ If I could get a cheap animal,” said Hildebrand. 
 
 “ Forty pounds is a large sum for a creature which eats.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 22 1 
 
 He was unimpressed by the information that if it was 
 not for her hocks and her wind it would be a hundred and 
 forty. He said that he presumed an animal could not 
 move without its hock or breathe without its wind, and 
 therefore as both were there, the deterioration was a 
 fixture. 
 
 He got upon the black mare's back and rode her with- 
 out adventure to the avenue gate. He ambled upon the 
 lawn, to decide that riding horseback, though slippery, was 
 agreeable. 
 
 Phillips appeared from somewhere to applaud and advise. 
 
 “ Stirrups longer — sit middle of saddle, sir,” counselled 
 Phillips ; “ hands low — enthralling occupation, sir, even 
 for a novice.” 
 
 Hildebrand explained irritably that he had constantly 
 ridden. 
 
 “ Margate boys not particular as to seat, sir,” said 
 Phillips gravely. “ Difficult matter here, sir — yes, madam, 
 at once.” And Phillips melted away before Hildebrand 
 could answer. 
 
 ‘‘Margate!” said Hildebrand, kicking the black mare 
 wrathfully. Her astonished sidle placed him on her neck. 
 Having scrambled back, he rode back to Standish to 
 explain how he had sat a vicious plunge. 
 
 “ He’ll never buy a horse,” said Standish to Phillips. 
 
 Phillips replied that he feared not. “ That is until he 
 does it cleverly, sir,” said Phillips blandly. “When there 
 is a hundred pounds worth to be got for ten.” 
 
 “ Have you a message, Bill Costello ? ” said Standish 
 curtly. 
 
 A small and horsey-looking man, with a red face, 
 breeches and gaiters, and a tail coat reaching nearly to his 
 ankles, was standing behind them. He was a local horse- 
 dealer with an unsavoury reputation, due to his talent for 
 taming hitherto uncurable rogues. 
 
 A month with William Costello made them glad to go 
 anywhere out of his yard. He was an equine sausage mill, 
 
222 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 taking the raw meat and turning it out ground, smooth, 
 flavoured, and fit for human consumption ; but, like the 
 succulent sausage, his goods did not keep. 
 
 “ It was the loan of a bit I took from Mr. Acland that I 
 came to return,” said Costello. “ A little mare I had that 
 wanted a twisted snaffle, and I not to have one.” Mr. 
 Costello looked at Hildebrand ambling on the lawn. 
 
 “ Has he her bought for ye, Misther Blundell?” he 
 asked. “ She should be flightsome for a larner.” 
 
 “ He heard us,” said Standish thoughtfully, as Costello 
 went away. 
 
 “ Sandy,” he called to Acland, “ did you ever see a man 
 sit more unhappily on a saddle ? ” 
 
 Sandy, looking slightly worried, contemplated Hilde- 
 brand gloomily. “ All the unhappiness in the world,” he 
 said, “ won’t make him go away. As long as Red Fancy 
 is in the yard, Hildebrand will be in the house. What is 
 to happen if the horse loses ? ” groaned Sandy. 
 
 “ Oh, murder, foul and uncharitable,” quoted Standish. 
 “ Bear up, they’ll never stand another year, Sandy, even if 
 they have to marry each other.” 
 
 Mr. William Costello, blandly villainous, had strolled to 
 Hildebrand’s side. He paused to ask, very politely, where 
 Mr. Hannyside had hunted before. 
 
 “ ’Twill be a change for ye here,” said Costello, “ though 
 England’s a great land for a gallop— that mare should match 
 ye well, but for her hocks ” — he looked significantly at the 
 marks of the irons. “ I wouldn’t say they’d stand long 
 with her,” added the horse dealer. “ I would not — but 
 they might. It’s bad to be losin’ on a horse. If ye’d 
 throw an eye over my lot now before — there is one horse 
 there, an’ he might be worth three hundred if a gentleman 
 had him. I’d sell him chape, too — me profit is all I looks 
 for,” said Bill with childlike candour. 
 
 Hildebrand nodded, and rode the black mare once more 
 to the steps. He got off, saying he would think of it, and 
 he went in. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 223 
 
 Araminta was reading letters in the drawing-room. She 
 was ill-humoured and depressed. 
 
 Hildebrand sat down, asked how much a year Araminta’s 
 cigarettes cost, and how she could reconcile the ex- 
 penditure to her conscience, and then broached the subject 
 of hunting. 
 
 “One appears here to be the object of ridicule if one 
 does not hunt,” he said. 
 
 Araminta lighted another cigarette, and suggested acidly 
 that some people might remain so even if they followed 
 the chase. 
 
 “I,” added Araminta, “am already advertising in The 
 Lady for a habit. Mrs. Acland is lending me an old 
 saddle, and I mean to hunt.” 
 
 Hildebrand wished plaintively that hunting could be 
 arranged without horses. 
 
 “They eat,” said Hildebrand, “and they use clothes and 
 iron shoes, which wear shockingly. But for us” — his 
 face lightened — “ ours can be kept in the racing-stable, and 
 there must be leavings they can eat up.” 
 
 A common meanness sometimes drew the cousins 
 together. Araminta considered the merits of the black 
 mare and decided they had better steer clear of Standish 
 Blundell and try a farmer. “ A countryman,” she averred, 
 “would not know the true value of hunters. If they were 
 to ride with grace by the opening meet they had better 
 begin at once.” 
 
 A further conversation resulted in Araminta and Hilde- 
 brand arranging to take a walk together ; they met Mollie, 
 looking a little pale and wistful, at the door. She had got 
 on her blue dress and was studying the avenue with 
 expectancy. 
 
 “ Why,” said Miss Mellicombe, “ do you not practise the 
 art of teaching with excellent Miss Brown ? You idle 
 disgracefully, Mollie Knox.” 
 
 “ Disgracefully,” said Hildebrand. 
 
 Mollie retorted somewhat testily that they must remem- 
 
224 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 ber that she had hoped to be able to idle pleasantly. “ I — 
 did not think I should be a pauper/’ said Mollie, a little 
 tremor in her voice. 
 
 Araminta laughed unpleasantly. She said that for her 
 part she had always guessed that her Uncle Hannyside 
 never meant to really leave Mollie anything. 
 
 “ He made you an allowance to save himself from 
 worry,” snapped Araminta severely. “ You hunted him so 
 hard, Mollie.” 
 
 Mollie went slowly down the steps, tears smarting 
 behind her lids, her cheeks scarlet. 
 
 “ A sulky temper,” said Hildebrand blandly, “ will com- 
 pletely unfit you for any position as teacher.” 
 
 “I’m not going to take one — I’m going to take a 
 cottage and feed pigs/’ called back Mollie naughtily, “ at 
 Mrs. Butler’s gate.” 
 
 “Feed pigs!” said Araminta, coming out with her 
 complexion protected by two blue veils. “ How awful ! 
 If we were still here. How appalling — she might do it 
 too.” She turned to Mikkelo, who was raking gravel. 
 “ Mikkelo, can one live on pigs ? ” 
 
 “Ye can so,” said Mikkelo enthusiastically, believing 
 that Miss Mellicombe referred to bacon. 
 
 “ Then it’s worse than ever,” groaned Araminta. 
 
 They walked across the lawn, getting out over a 
 fence which tried Araminta sorely, into a narrow by- 
 lane. Here Bessy the orange woman directed them 
 “ to folly the boreen on to Costello’s, and miss it they 
 could not.” 
 
 A slated house standing back behind a tangle of un- 
 kempt Bowers marked the end of their quest. A red tin 
 roof covered a group of stabling at the back ; a boggy 
 track between two high banks could have told tales of 
 the horses which had been cowed in its holding depths, 
 with no hope of getting away from the cruel whips. 
 
 Mr. William Costello was ringing a lumpy five-year-old 
 in a field almost bare of grass. He had bought the horse 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 225 
 
 as a determined rogue for ten pounds and was commencing 
 his education. 
 
 “Now this is simplicity ,” said Araminta softly. “This 
 poor unintelligent man will not know what horses are really 
 worth. You were right to bring me here, Hildebrand.” 
 William Costello greeted them with a honeyed smile. 
 He could match them for the winther, surely. 
 
 “Something temperate, ye’ll want,” said Bill — “a nice 
 stheady animal, that will carry ye. I have the very 
 thing,” he said. “ I have two letters here about him, but 
 as ye come to me I won’t disappoint.” 
 
 He flung open the door of an evil-smelling stable, calling 
 to a one-eyed henchman to strip this ’oss. 
 
 “ This ’oss ” shone forth blooming from an over-heated 
 loose box — a tall narrow bay, trimmed and shaved to a 
 semblance of quality. He had been a determined pig 
 before Costello bought him, with a nasty trick of folding 
 up and lying down when he was asked to jump, and a 
 confirmed runaway on the flat, but now the memory of 
 fire or stick had induced him to keep on his feet. With 
 a long swish tail and a fine rein he was not untaking. 
 
 That he had sidebones, was a confirmed ankle wiper, 
 and a whistler were mere items of no importance. 
 
 “ There’s for ye,” said Costello, “ nearly in the book. 
 No fince can sthop him. A great doer an’ gentle as two 
 lambs.” 
 
 “For the love ov God, Joe,” he whispered, “show him 
 the sthick if the lady goes to pet him.” 
 
 “ Thirty pound,” said Costello, “ as it is our first dale. 
 And I tell ye I don’t know his true vally.” 
 
 Hildebrand had the bay out. He looked at the bloom- 
 ing coat, at the giraffe-like height. 
 
 “ There is much more,” he said, “ included here for 
 thirty pounds, than Mr. Blundell offered me for forty,” 
 
 “ That little bit ov a fired mare,” said Costello con- 
 temptuously. “ I can see you are a judge, sir. As ye say, 
 there’s height an’ size.” 
 
 *5 
 
226 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ How much oats now,” said Hildebrand, “ would this 
 animal exist on per diem ; and would he be particular ? ” 
 
 Mr. Costello, completely nonplussed, gazed at Hilde- 
 brand before he replied. With truth he might have returned 
 “ none” — for bran and turnips supported the bay at Annis 
 Farm. He began to say twenty, and then stopped to look 
 at Joe, who combined a rapid wink and frown, also hissing 
 “ near ! ” as he turned the horse round. 
 
 So Costello fell to ten, and added that such a healthy 
 horse would live on anything you’d give him. “ He’s none 
 of yer dainty ones,” said Bill diplomatically. “ A good 
 bite of hay would keep him.” 
 
 “ There is none dainty here,” murmured Joe drily, in a 
 non-committal voice. 
 
 Hildebrand thought it all out, grudging the expenditure 
 sorely* 
 
 “ A saddle and bridle,” he remarked doubtfully. 
 
 “ Hasn’t Mr. Acland a sight of saddles above,” inter- 
 posed Costello, “ and haven’t ye bridles to fit a town from 
 ye’re own racers ? ” 
 
 Hildebrand fell back to consider it. 
 
 “ An’ what,” said Joe in a husky whisper to his master, 
 “ is to happen if there is any chat of eggsamination ? ” 
 
 “ If ’tis Hefferty, he owes me twenty pound for his 
 harness mare,” murmured Costello. “ But if what ? — if 
 'twas Considine ? if there is word of Considine, then the 
 sthable door is locked, an’ this horse is dead an’ gone, 
 finished up,” Costello said firmly. 
 
 Then, perceiving that Hildebrand and Araminta were 
 regarding him with suspicion, he turned with a smile fair 
 as a summer’s dawn, and left Joe. 
 
 “ Me man there,” said Costello, “is just afther tellin’ me 
 how a friend of Lord Cahir’s that is sthayin’ at the great 
 house, spotted this fellow on the road but yestherday, and 
 promised himself a wheel over to see him. Joe is wantin’ 
 me to wait, but if ye wants the horse, me word is given,” 
 said Costello dramatically. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 227 
 
 “ You see,” whispered Araminta, “it is evidently a valu- 
 able animal, and if others come the man will know.” 
 
 Hildebrand had a saddle put on ; he bumped, amid the 
 silent prayers of dealer and man, twice round the field, 
 andTe came back elated. He said, as he slid off on the 
 wrong side, that he thought he had better take the 
 animal. 
 
 “ Won't he match a pink coat fine ? ” said Costello 
 enthusiastically. “Won’t he show ye off at the hunt, 
 sir ? ” 
 
 “ God save us, but ’tis likely he will,” murmured Joe as 
 he led the bay in. “ ’Tis lucky ye’ll both be,” rasped Joe, 
 in the shelter of the evil-smelling stable, “ if yerself an’ his 
 corpse is out together at the ind, and ye with his boots 
 sthrung on ye upside down in attindance behind it.” 
 
 “ Sneak in an’ ginger the grey mare,” hissed a whisper 
 from the door. 
 
 With all the suspicion of a small nature, Hildebrand was 
 determined not to ask advice of Sandy, who might step in 
 and buy the horse for himself. With sad deliberation he 
 produced a neatly folded cheque book and followed 
 Costello into a parlour, where the blended odours of whisky 
 and tobacco hung in undisturbed unity over some dusty 
 furniture. 
 
 “ Them girrls,” said Costello, smacking a chair clean, 
 “ is no use to any man.” 
 
 The offer of a dhrop was firmly declined. Tea, made 
 magically fast, appeared for Araminta, accompanied on its 
 tray by several boiled eggs. 
 
 A dry bargain, Costello explained, was no bargain. 
 “ There is a milk dhrink here now, that the old lady at the 
 hall gave me, I can’t lay the right name to it.” 
 
 He lifted a dirty bottle from a cupboard full of decanters 
 and glasses, and he would take no denial. Hildebrand 
 tasting, found the milky fluid curiously comforting. 
 
 “ There is no alcohol ? ” he said suspiciously. 
 
 “ Sorra a taste,” affirmed Costello, adding with a puzzled 
 
228 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 air that he wished he could lay his tongue to the name. 
 “ There none ov that anyways,” he added, pouring out a 
 second brimming glass. 
 
 A mellowness of good humour fell upon Hildebrand ; he 
 found himself absolutely thanking Mr. Costello for the 
 horse which he had sold him. Hazily he made promise 
 that of course he would not listen to any other opinions or 
 blame the horse-dealer for anything. 
 
 He sat and smiled, and he got up and smiled, but he 
 thought when he went out that the air made him a little 
 giddy. 
 
 Costello led the way across the yard to other stables. 
 He recognized the futility of showing the impossibilities 
 first to these two, so as to make the possibility a delightful 
 relief, and he went straight to the point. 
 
 A small and indifferently tried grey mare was revealed 
 by the falling' rug. Fat and blooming, with a long swish 
 tail, a hogged mane, and a pair of pig eyes blinking in her 
 head. She had round joints, a lumpy shoulder, and the 
 swish tail, which she carried splendidly, was her sole claim 
 to breeding. 
 
 “If the lady,” said Costello, “ wants perfection there it 
 is.” He flicked at the grey with his whip and she moved 
 unwillingly to show herself off. 
 
 “There’s quality,” said Costello pointing to the tail. “ If 
 she were done — I have her but a few days — ye’d see what 
 she’d be. But she can lep to pieces.” 
 
 “ Good gracious ! ” said Araminta nervously. 
 
 “ Lep grand entirely,” said Costello. “ Grand. Clap a 
 saddle on this one, Joe.” 
 
 “ Let ye do the chat for a minit whiles I run in for the 
 sharp sphurs,” murmured Joe. 
 
 “ There’s for ye,” said Costello. “ Nate and swate. If 
 she was in England there’s no knowin’ the price that’d be 
 on her. Not the same that I’m puttin’,” said Costello 
 truthfully. “ Sweetheart, we calls her, she being by Cherry- 
 stones, an’ her dam be Reveller.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 229 
 
 The grey mare walked regretfully into theiyard, where 
 she blinked sleepily. The scrape of Joe’s spurs roused her 
 to a bitterly unwilling activity, in which she trotted and 
 cantered rather nicely round the field. And being put at 
 a low wall, jumped it with the strongest reluctance. 
 
 Hildebrand had seated himself on an upturned bucket, 
 his back against the wall. He felt .suddenly very tired 
 and peaceful. The grey mare was a mere blur as she sped 
 round the field, but when Araminta roused him by persistent 
 questioning, he said “ Perfection — delightful,” and closed 
 his eyes again happily. Araminta rather fancied a grey. 
 She inquired the price nervously, adding that she could 
 not afford much. 
 
 Costello, having bought the mare for fifteen pounds, 
 stroked his chin. Her piggish laziness made her almost 
 impossible to sell. She droned through a fair, impervious 
 even to sharp spur and ginger after a time. She dug 
 her toes in as she walked and she stumbled when she 
 trotted. 
 
 “ Thirty-five pounds. A price I never thought to ask,” 
 said Costello. “ But when there’s two goin’ ’tis different.” 
 
 Araminta eyed the dozing Hildebrand and smiled. She 
 could see that his purchase had saved her money. 
 
 “ She seems amiable,” said Araminta, stroking the grey 
 muzzle. 
 
 “ She is that same, miss,” said Joe grimly. 
 
 “ And I do like her tail,” said Araminta. “It is so 
 prettily put on.” 
 
 Joe said nothing this time, he merely looked respectful. 
 The flotsam and jetsam of groom worlds drift into small 
 horse-dealer’s yards, and stay there stranded on a muddy 
 shore, but curiously faithful to their employers. 
 
 Joe had ridden sleek hunters to meets once, but the 
 curse of whisky had undone him. Now his nights were 
 his own to drink on, if he were ready in the mornings to 
 wrestle with pullers and sulkers and a variety of evil- 
 doers. 
 
230 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ I will take her,” said Araminta spasmodically. “ I will 
 buy a grey habit to match her, Hildebrand ! ” 
 
 Hildebrand opened his eyes unwillingly. “ That old 
 milk,” he said, “ must have disagreed with me, I do not 
 feel well.” 
 
 Costello, smiling sweetly, said he had had six bottles of 
 it, and never saw it do harm to a Christian. “Ould Lady 
 May sent it to me two years ago,” he said, “ for pullin’ her 
 out of a ditch. I’ll carry over the horses in the morning,” 
 he said. “ Sure, time enough, miss, pay me when I sees ye.” 
 
 Araminta whispered to Hildebrand that she felt sure 
 they ought to give something to the man, but Hildebrand 
 looking longingly at the bucket he had sat on, responded 
 irritably. Finally persuaded by his cousin, he fumbled for 
 sixpence, which, wedded to one of Araminta’s, was, he 
 considered, quite enough. 
 
 “ Grateful people these Irish,” he said, as he left. a I do 
 wish, Araminta, you would keep the trees quiet.” 
 
 Araminta feared that he was really ill, for half-way 
 home Hildebrand sat down again to doze upon a damp 
 bank, and wake with a clutch at his head. 
 
 The long avenue at Castleknock seemed interminable as 
 he toiled up it. Filled with ill humour, he went into the 
 drawing-room at Droveen and drank strong tea with 
 feverish thirst, while the astonishing news was broken. 
 Araminta burst into confidences as to her horse. She 
 flung the information at them triumphantly. 
 
 “ Hildebrand’s horse is very nice — reddish,” said 
 Araminta, “and tall, but mine is lovely.” 
 
 Mollie Knox sighed a little drearily. She could not 
 think of hunting, and she rode well. 
 
 “ Grey,” said Araminta, “ a beautiful sleek grey, and oh, 
 her tail.” 
 
 Standish took some buttered toast and remarked that 
 Costello was strong on tails. 
 
 “ She holds it so beautifully,” said Araminta. 
 
 Standish looked at her gloomily. “ That’s what Jorrocks 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 231 
 
 said to Benjamin ; when the morning was cold he said, 
 4 Think o’ ginger, Benjamin.' ” 
 
 Miss Mellicombe replied icily that she could not see the 
 association between ginger and tails. 
 
 Sandy hummed a tune quite softly. He seemed rather 
 pleased about something, his tune was that of “ Eliza, you’re 
 a daisy,” but the words he put to it seemed to be “ Costello, 
 you’re a dealer.” 
 
 “ These farmer-men, of course, do not know the value 
 of their horses, so we secured bargains ! ” said Araminta 
 loftily. 
 
 Hildebrand, so far, had not spoken. 
 
 “ Do you know the grey, Standish ? ” Sandy said. 
 
 “ She should be Malachi Dunnes’s,” said Standish. “ He 
 used to drive her in his- round trap, but a wire whip 
 wouldn’t do.” 
 
 “ And an — er— tall bay?” Sandy questioned. 
 
 Standish said he did not know the bay. He looked at 
 Hildebrand, who was holding his head dolefully. 
 
 “ It was something he took at Costello’s,” said Araminta, 
 “ white stuff — milk drink, Mr. Costello called it, but it 
 didn’t agree with Hildebrand. Something a Lady May 
 sent there.” 
 
 Standish’s bray of laughter cut across the room. 
 
 “ It might take a stronger head to agree with old May 
 Caher’s milk punch,” he said. “ Go and sleep it off, my 
 boy. It’s your only chance.” 
 
 Hildebrand rose dizzily, he muttered that he had drunk 
 nothing but some sweetish milk with a curious flavour, 
 and he disappeared for the evening. 
 
 The arrival of the horses next morning was quite an 
 event. Standish rode over to be there when they came. 
 Phillips was on the doorstep. 
 
 Hildebrand, still suffering from headache, watched the 
 tall bay sidling up the avenue, by his side the unwilling 
 grey, with the tail still at a correct angle. Mr. Costello 
 looked painfully disconcerted at his large audience. It 
 
232 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 was further augmented by Dennis Butler, riding a long- 
 tailed, half-broken brown colt. 
 
 “ I think,” said Hildebrand, “ that I have secured a good 
 animal to hunt on, his hind legs are not fired.” 
 
 “ He might lep,” said Dennis, eyeing the bay. “ You 
 didn’t get him here, Costello.” 
 
 “ No, sir ; but in Kerry,” said Costello. 
 
 “ What county is farthest from Kerry ? ” said Standish 
 thoughtfully. Having looked critically at the bay, he was 
 unkind enough to ask if sidebones were thrown in for 
 nothing, and how much for a spavin ? “ Makes a noise I 
 
 suppose which does not stop him,” said Standish. Then 
 he hit the grey mare hard. 
 
 “ She’s as used to punching as a boxer’s bag,” said 
 Standish, grinning. “ And you nearly killed Mr. Hanny- 
 side with that stuff you gave him, Bill.” 
 
 “ When he was a teetotaller an’ would not take tea, I 
 found it,” said Costello. “ I have the name looked out on 
 an old bottle, ’tis milk punch.” 
 
 Hildebrand grew very red and groaned faintly. 
 
 “ The only thing he was agin was alcool,” said Costello, 
 “ an’ I knew ’twas innocint of that.” 
 
 “ We, will stable these horses,” said Hildebrand, after a 
 pause. “ Take them up. Oh, thank you, Phillips. Yes, 
 go with the man.” 
 
 Five minutes later Phillips appeared to say that 
 Mr. Watson absolutely declined to have strange ’osses in 
 his yards — that one had a cawf, and that the horses were 
 again outside. 
 
 Hildebrand remarking that he would teach Watson who 
 was master, reached for his hat. 
 
 " Do I understand that he — he — said he would not take 
 them in? ” fumed young Hannyside. 
 
 “ Said as how he’d be — that is that he would not, sir,” 
 said Phillips politely. “ Racehorses very precious, sir.” 
 
 A procession headed by the tall bay, and brought up by 
 Araminta with her arm flung round the neck of the grey 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 233 
 
 mare, approached the upper yard. The door was always 
 locked. 
 
 Hildebrand rang the bell clamorously. 
 
 The clang was followed by a feminine squeal. 
 
 “ Mrs. Mac,” said Sandy, surprised. 
 
 “ The ould woman is away to the great house,” observed 
 Mikkelo, placing an inquiring eye to the keyhole ; “ but 
 I sees Delia.” 
 
 At this point the door was opened by Watson. Mrs. 
 Acland’s maid, looking extremely demure, was tripping 
 down from a distant stable with a book in her hands. 
 One, she explained, dropped there three days before by 
 her mistress. 
 
 Hildebrand, adopting the air of the Compleat Master, 
 wished to know if his horse was not to be kept in his own 
 yard. 
 
 Mr. Watson, blandly determined, said it certainly was 
 not. Red Fancy was too precious to be endangered. 
 
 “ ’Osses from a dealer’s yard,” said Watson contemptu- 
 ously. “ ’Osses — as might.” He eyed the tall bay 
 suspiciously. “ No, sir.” 
 
 “ If you get an extra man,” said Sandy, “ I’ll take them 
 in, Hildebrand — at four pounds a month,” he added gently. 
 When oats and hay and stabling might have been had for 
 nothing. Hildebrand gritted his teeth. He ordered Mr. 
 Watson to obey him, and Mr. Watson smiled and looked 
 at Sandy. He turned a bland but stony profile to young 
 Mr. Hannyside’s varied explosions of wrath. He finally 
 appealed to Caesar, who stood grinning softly, with the 
 air of the appellant who has no fear of his reply. The 
 safety of chasers was at stake; were they to be jeopardised ? 
 
 “With ’osses,” said Watson, “wot rubs shoulders with 
 ring-worms an’ vermin an’ cawfs in forges. Wot is put in, 
 as I ’ave seen, in muck-’ouses, while the owners drinks or 
 goes to funerals. Muck-’ouses ! No,” said Watson crisply. 
 “ No, not here in Ireland ! ” 
 
 “ Four pounds a month,” said Sandy. “ The two upper 
 
234 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 boxes are vacant, and we’ll find the boy. Watson is right, 
 Hildebrand.” 
 
 “ We want a boy to do boots and knives,” murmured 
 Nora absently. 
 
 With the bitterness of defeat rankling in his heart, 
 Hildebrand walked away. A cousin of Mikkelo, one 
 Hannan, a sallow youth with red-rimmed eyelids, dropped 
 as manna, not from heaven, but from the farmyard, where 
 he had been waiting to ask for a job. There wasn’t a thing 
 but he’d lay his hand to, he promised eagerly. “ An’ he 
 had cared hunthers all last winther.” Yellow straw fell 
 crisply upon stony floors. Fragrant hay was tossed down 
 into corners. The horses, vaguely suspicious at the cleanly 
 absence of smells, were installed. 
 
 “ There are still their clothes,” said Araminta tragically, 
 “ the things which are over them.” 
 
 But at this point Hildebrand asserted himself with a 
 “ Here, you boy Hannan. Tell Mr. Watson to send me 
 at once clothing for two horses. At once ! ” 
 
 “And stockings,” said Araminta, “the grey footless 
 kind they wear ; don’t forget those.” 
 
 Watson returned himself, helping the boy to carry some 
 ragged race clothing. Mr. Costello had gone to the house 
 to receive a cheque from Araminta. Having thanked her, 
 he made hurried way across the fields, took out his dog- 
 cart, and went to cash it in the town. 
 
 Watson stood looking at the bay horse, looking with a 
 look which grew curiously thoughtful. 
 
 The peculiar outstretched neck and swallow were not to 
 be mistaken. 
 
 “ God above save us, but he dhraws the wind,” said 
 Mikkelo in awed tones. 
 
 “ Nice kind of thing to bring into my yards,” answered 
 Watson. “Well, he bought him for better or worse I 
 expects. A wind-sucker.” He looked over the half-door. 
 “Likewise a few embellishments,” said Watson, grinning. 
 “ Good ’oss, eh, Mikkelo ? ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 235 
 
 “ Wait till ye sees him out, sir ” — Mikkelo’s cousin 
 adjusted the rugs — “ with his head carried up, lookin’ 
 back over his tail, as he with his mouth open gettin’ his 
 fill of wind for himself. I seen him an’ he new, below at 
 Costello’s. I ran over for the lond of a pony harness, 
 our own bein’ mid bits of, an’ I come in quiet like an 
 unbeknownst. But he was glad enough to stop before 
 them two were done with him. I’d be thankful for a 
 big bit, sir, to clap in his jaws in the mornink An’ he’ll 
 lie down and he tirenened,” finished Hannan cheerily. 
 
 A certain uneasiness creeping over Hildebrand was not 
 checked by the smiling glances he saw on other people’s 
 faces. 
 
 Standish, having interviewed Watson, counselled the 
 immediate isolation of the wind-sucker to what was known 
 as the 44 sthable up above,” where he would not impart his 
 bad ways to his fellows. 
 
 44 It was a queer thing to buy,” he said emphatically to 
 Hildebrand. “But, of course, if you wanted a rank 
 screw.” 
 
 Araminta, looking out of the window, gave a squeal of 
 dismay. “ My beautiful grey’s tail is tucked right in,” she 
 said. “ Oh look, Mr. Blundell ; she must be ill.” 
 
 Sandy’s wink to his wife was quite artistic. 
 
 “ You might wait fora long time,” said Standish, “ before 
 you see that tail out again. 4 Me sisther is cruel fond of a 
 ginger loaf, sir,’ said Costello one day to me, and I meeting 
 him at Delaney’s buying a pound of the stuff. 4 It’s grand 
 stuff,’ said I, 4 with the ginger left out, because it’s wanted 
 elsewhere ’ ; and he gave me a look as bitter as weasels. 
 There isn’t a horse of Costello’s but carries its tail like a 
 banner, until some other fellow gets them.” 
 
 When next day Hildebrand, after a most uneasy ride 
 upon the bay horse, went down to Costello to remonstrate, 
 he was received with the hurt of innocence. Did not any 
 gentleman know that if sound the horse was worth two 
 hundred sovereigns ? 44 Surely, sir, you did not expect to 
 
236 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 buy a sound blood hunter for thirty,” said Costello in 
 offended tones. “ A strap will cure the wind-sucking ; 
 the horse does not go lame. Surely you did not expect 
 it,” repeated Costello. 
 
 Hildebrand, abandoning the argument, knew that 
 unfortunately he had expected it. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 And leads the will to desperate undertakings. 
 
 — Hamlet . 
 
 W HEN he is done with her may be he’ll stop,” 
 observed Mikkelo to his cousin. 
 
 “ It’s the length he takes to be done that’ll tiren ye,” 
 returned Hannan. “ I missed to ring him this mornin’, 
 and there is Misther Hannyside now with one trouser leg 
 near to his waist and be like to fall off.” 
 
 The tall bay, named by his master Perfection, was tear- 
 ing round the big field at a sprawling gallop. His lean 
 head was straight up, his jaws were open ; he would stop 
 when he was blown, but not before. 
 
 “ Bran,” said Mikkelo sapiently, “ bran is the match of 
 his likes. It’s sthronger than fancy bits, I tell ye, to hould 
 a horse. Lave the oats bin shut down, Patsy, or he’ll do a 
 mischief to the poor foreigner above on his back.” 
 
 “ There’s one that won’t run, at any rate,” said Patsy 
 blithely. Araminta, robed in an exceedingly ill-fitting 
 habit, came ambling past upon the grey Twilight. The 
 mare would have preferred walking, but being urged to 
 gallop, she ambled. With her untrue action and lack of 
 fire, it would have been difficult to imagine a more un- 
 pleasant mount. 
 
 “ So docile,” said Araminta, sitting firmly to one side : 
 “ so gentle. I suppose,” she pulled up by Mikkelo, “ she is 
 afraid to interfere with the other horse if she gallops, 
 Mikkelo, because she won’t.” 
 
 “ Faix, maybe,” said Mikkelo, politely agreeing with a 
 lady. 
 
 At this moment Phillips, riding, joined the group, and 
 
 237 
 
238 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Hildebrand came near for the third time. His mouth 
 was open, his complexion crimson ; he wailed for advice 
 as he galloped up. 
 
 Phillips, turning, opened the gate leading to the stables, 
 and the bay, seeing it, swerved and was captured. 
 
 “ He seemed to wish to go on — and — on,” gasped 
 Hildebrand. 
 
 “ A racing snaffle, sir,” said Phillips, “ is not an excellent 
 bit to a puller, sir. One moment, sir. If I may give him 
 a little more. You might get off, sir.” 
 
 As Hildebrand tumbled to the ground, Phillips length- 
 ened the stirrups and got on to the bay. A couple of 
 rounds of the field announced him that the tall horse had a 
 mouth like iron, and pulled more from vice than high 
 spirits. Phillips raced the horse at a low wall, which he 
 sailed over, and at a bank, taken with more zeal than 
 skill. 
 
 <( I greatly fear, sir,” said Phillips blandly, “ that this 
 horse requires training, sir, much training. Excitable 
 horse, sir.” 
 
 Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Phillips proposed that 
 Hildebrand should learn to ride on a stout and well- 
 behaved cob belonging to him, while he would try to 
 subdue the bay. 
 
 “ This fellow,” murmured Phillips to Mikkelo, “ might do 
 a hunt if it was fast enough for him.” 
 
 “ When he’s done he’ll lie down,” observed Hannan 
 placidly. 
 
 The cob being produced, Hildebrand found it greatly to 
 his liking, and Phillips, going into the next field, knocked 
 over old Betty’s goat and jumped into her potatoes before 
 he stopped Perfection. 
 
 Miss Knox, who was looking for mushrooms with 
 Dennis Butler — they searched a good deal by the hedges 
 —said she feared that Hildebrand would never make a 
 horseman. 
 
 Dennis, watching the flying exit of Phillips, remarked 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 239 
 
 that he thought the best thing the owner of Perfection 
 could make was his will. 
 
 “ I don’t like his eye,” said Dennis. “ He looks mad, 
 somehow.’* They sat down to consider the question. 
 Blackberry leaves were turning to gold and russet and 
 scarlet ; the wondrous paint-brush of autumn was being 
 laid on the world. All round the trees were clutching out 
 at last riot of beauty before their winter sleep, were taking 
 colour. It was as if some fairy, with a brush of fire had passed 
 by, burning some brown, scorching others, searing leaves 
 to scarlet and gold and red and brilliant browns. Now 
 and again a leaf, less brilliantly painted than her fellows, 
 would slip patiently, almost sadly to the earth, knowing 
 her life was done ; whipped by the wind, beaten down 
 by rain ; torn asunder by frost, she had left her brothers 
 and sisters for ever. There is sadness in autumn, in the 
 yearly death of the world, the freezing of sap, the resting 
 of the great scarred earth, doubly sad because we who can 
 lay the axe to the tree, and tear the earth to our desire, 
 have but one spring, one summer, one failing, and one 
 death. While the world merely sleeps to wake again, we 
 must, when our autumn is ended, sleep for ever. 
 
 Mollie said nervously that she did not care for the 
 autumn. The girl had lost her careless merriment. Un- 
 certainty lay before her, she could not stay on at Castle- 
 knock for ever. 
 
 “But my goodness,” said Dennis, “why, autumn is the 
 gate to the hunting season. I have three youngsters, 
 which I can’t possibly afford to keep if they don’t keep me; 
 but I’ll wait to see until after Christmas. The forage con- 
 tractor is a very decent fellow,” added Dennis. 
 
 Mollie sighed. Then she asked severely why Dennis 
 did not buy forage at first cost from the farmers. 
 
 “ But I should have to pay the farmers,” said Dennis 
 emphatically. I promise twopence extra a stone to 
 O’Keefe.” 
 
 Here Mollie tried to keep severe, and laughed instead^ 
 
240 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 She thought the world might be a nice place if she were an 
 heiress, and she got up to go back to Castleknock. 
 
 On their way there they met Dermot, who had taken 
 his car to the yard and came to meet them. He observed 
 briefly that the mater was there ; that she wouldn't let 
 him come alone. “ I think she has hopes of making 
 Hildebrand see he is breaking all his rules of holiness, and 
 of marrying me to Araminta,” confided Dermot gloomily. 
 
 “ She would reduce your tailor's bill,” said Mollie 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 “Ha, have you seen Hildebrands hunting clothes? He 
 is getting the little man in the village, Keefe, to copy Mr. 
 Acland’s,” gulped Dermot. 
 
 The unseemly and over-loud laughter of three people 
 brought Mrs. Butler to the window. She had assumed the 
 fur garments of cold weather, and was regal in sealskins 
 and silver fox. 
 
 “ Dermot,” she called loudly. 
 
 Dermot hesitated and went in. 
 
 “ Dennis,” said Mrs. Butler. 
 
 Dennis merely nodded. 
 
 “ If I,” he said, “had half Dermot's income. If I had 
 anything, but the place is not entailed, and my stepmamma 
 has bought it. My priority of years may endow me with 
 a thousand pounds.” 
 
 Mollie breathed Canada faintly. 
 
 Dennis knocked down an unoffending dahlia and replied 
 that most girls were simply slaves out there. Ruined 
 hands, beans, and frying pans,” said Dennis, “ that’s all 
 they’re there for, and besides, there is not a pack of hounds 
 in the country. What’s the use of coming back to hunt 
 when one’s sixty, and can’t do it? ” 
 
 Mollie, who for some reason had found the beans and bacon 
 a matter for a heightened colour, said she supposed it wasn't. 
 
 “ And I don’t know who the girl is,” said Miss Knox 
 wrathfully, “ but if she thinks so much of her hands she is 
 not worth bothering about.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 241 
 
 “ But I’m the one who thinks of her hands,” said Dennis 
 quietly. 
 
 “ Directly I get in,” said Mollie, appearing not to hear, 
 though her cheeks were white now, “ Araminta will suggest 
 my going to help,Miss Brown ; the fact of my dependent 
 position is not allowed to drop out of sight.” 
 
 “ You were taking a walk with Dennis?” asked his step- 
 mother coldly. 
 
 “ We were looking for mushrooms,” said Dennis. 
 “Mushrooms,” sniffed Araminta, “are not fit to eat in 
 September.’’ 
 
 “ Well, we only found dead leaves,” said Mollie, laying 
 one gorgeous specimen of gold russet and scarlet on the 
 tea table. “ So it doesn’t matter.” 
 
 Araminta looked up at her cousin. “ It is French day 
 in the schoolroom,” she said — “an opportunity for you, 
 Mollie, which you should not miss.” 
 
 “ Miss Knox’s French being a little weak,” said Mrs. 
 Butler. “ My little nieces did not progress when such 
 simple words as 1 gateaux ’ were not known.” 
 
 “ And cats,” said Mollie absently. “ It’s a great draw- 
 back,” she added, “ to have learnt all one’s French in Paris, 
 it’s so unintelligible.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler, with a glance of heavy surprise said no 
 French at all was spoken in Paris. “ All the waiters prefer 
 English,” she said, “and it is quite pedantic and uppish to 
 ask in French at the shops. Paris was quite ridiculous.” 
 Mollie said it had been delightful. “ Cousin Reggie was 
 there so often,” she added wistfully, “ at his villa ; and we 
 drove and saw places and operas and people.” 
 
 “ And now,” said Araminta, “ the children will be back 
 to tea if you don’t go to help Miss Brown.” 
 
 Sandy handed Mollie some tea with a firm air. Sandy’s 
 winks were now delivered with extreme skill. 
 
 “ Try some honey sandwiches, Miss Mellicombe,” said 
 Dennis, briefly bringing over a plate. 
 
 Mrs. Butler was a person who absorbed, a majestically 
 16 
 
242 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 large tea. She took hot cakes and sandwiches and chocolate 
 cake and more sandwiches. But there was no softening of 
 her majestic nature over butter and honey and almond 
 icing. She grew more splendid as her cheeks deepened 
 in colour from her third cup of tea. 
 
 “ Miss Hall Marten has just written to me,” she said ; 
 u Evelina is a charming girl/' 
 
 “ If you could have kept her awake,” said Sandy absently. 
 Mrs. Butler replied sternly that Miss Hall Marten had com- 
 plained of the lack of air in Ireland. “ Electric fans, you 
 know, and so forth. Society girls were used to amusement 
 of course. She has asked Dennis to stay with them,” 
 boomed Dennis's stepmother with meaning. “ She liked 
 Dennis.” 
 
 Dennis said hurriedly that fortunately he had no frocks 
 for visiting in. 
 
 “ That,” said his stepmother, brushing aside Araminta’s 
 hasty interruption as to men not wearing frocks, “ can 
 be arranged. Miss Hall Marten has two thousand a year 
 of her own, my dear,” she said to Nora. 
 
 “ And no doubt spends it, when she is awake,” said 
 Nora pleasantly. “ Her hands are certainly pretty.” 
 
 Miss Hall Marten’s hands were one of her attractions ; 
 they were white and well made. 
 
 Mollie put down her tea ; an untasted cake stood in the 
 saucer. 
 
 “ Her parents,” went on Mrs. Butler, “ give Evelina what 
 she wishes for ; she is an only daughter.” Here Mrs. Butler 
 looked at her immaculately clothed son and sighed. “ I 
 suppose it was contrast,” she said gloomily. 
 
 “ Contrast of what ? ” Nora asked. 
 
 “ Of clothes,” said Mrs. Butler. “ Dennis, I can take you 
 back if you walked over. Good gracious, Mr. Hannyside, 
 are you ill ? ” 
 
 Hildebrand, pinky hot from a bath, came stiffly into 
 the room. 
 
 “ Not ill, but sore,” said Hildebrand gruffly. “A gallop 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 243 
 
 of some eight miles, when one is not used to it.” He 
 touched the insides of his knees peevishly. 
 
 There was no real love of riding in Hildebrand’s heart. 
 He could never feel the joy of the horse beneath him, the 
 strong shoulders ripping the wind in a gallop, the cool rush 
 of air on his face. As Hildebrand ambled he pondered 
 gloomily on his weekly bills. When Perfection galloped 
 he wondered why mad fools got on to beasts which would 
 not stop ; why they got their knees rubbed and their hands 
 sore for nothing. 
 
 With dread in his heart Hildebrand looked at the jumps 
 round the country. He thought of the horror of facing 
 the big green banks, the loose stone walls ; it was bad 
 enough to sit on a horse when he was on flat ground, 
 but when he was in the air springing for safe foothold, 
 clearing nasty wet drains, bucking high over stones. 
 But it was the right thing to do, and Hildebrand practised 
 stolidly. 
 
 Araminta, on the other hand, enjoyed it vaguely. She 
 considered she became her new habit excessively, and said 
 that foxes’ brushes would be useful in London for dusting 
 with. 
 
 Sandy asked gravely what she would do with the heads, 
 to which Araminta replied that all gamy people put them 
 on walls, and was offended by a ribald mutter from Standish 
 as to the misuse of the word gamy. 
 
 Hildebrand drank hot tea in large quantities. He tried 
 now and again to talk of Greater Bethel when he found an 
 opening between horses and foxes, but no one noticed him. 
 Even Mrs. Butler talked of hunting ; the love of it was in 
 a cool September air. 
 
 “Oh, I love the tumbling leaves,” said Nora eagerly. 
 
 “ And I want to be dead when I can’t hunt.” 
 
 “ She was favouring the off fore,” boomed Standish, 
 
 “ plain to see, she’s lame,” I said. “ That is the new smith 
 that pinched her yesterday,” said Billy ; “ but I ran my 
 hand down her tendon and I left her there. Not much 
 
244 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 rest she had before I came to look at her, I’ll bet, that it 
 might be down for me.” 
 
 “ And I asked him about the cough, and he said, ‘ Oh, I 
 wouldn't notice that,' ” from Dennis. “ Nice boasting, as if 
 he didn't sit in the stables half the day and more. A 
 fellow that knows every sneeze they give.” 
 
 “Two litters," from Mrs. Butler. “Two, I assure you, # 
 and yet theyTl say we have no foxes except in the gorse 
 covert. Two chickens and a half taken last night. Oh, 
 Standish, how stupid you are. Of course they did not 
 take the half. It was two couples and a half.” 
 
 “ I tried those grey boots. Nothing like them for an 
 ankle wiper. . . 
 
 “Watson is going to hunt," burst out Nora. “He has 
 bought Standish's black mare." 
 
 As hawk upon its prey Hildebrand pounced. His fat 
 cheeks flushed, his eyes became positively joyous. 
 
 “He shall not,” said Hildebrand stoutly, “keep his 
 everyday hunter free in the racing stables. He shall not 
 feed it upon our oat scraps. If I was refused, I will see 
 about this," said Hildebrand importantly. 
 
 His rush to see to it without delay unfortunately 
 carried him past Mrs. Butler’s chair, where he tripped 
 heavily on one of that lady’s feet. Hildebrand was not 
 light, and Mrs. Butler remained faithful to the sized shoe 
 she had worn as a girl. Behind a scarlet flush of pain she 
 endeavoured not to say what she wished to. 
 
 “ In your place,” said the injured lady, as Hildebrand 
 got to the door, “ I should lock all stimulants up, Nora.” 
 
 Her voice was loud and piercing, it struck Hildebrand 
 unfairly in the back, and, as he was not intended to hear 
 it, he could not rush back and declaim his innocence. 
 
 Sandy went to the window. 
 
 “ Hildebrand,” he said. 
 
 Hildebrand raised a face empurpled by suppressed 
 righteousness and importance. 
 
 “ Hildebrand,” said Sandy, “ Watson is to keep the 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 245 
 
 mare in my stables. He is feeding her himself, that’s all. 
 You need not have hurried.” 
 
 Hildebrand returned to the drawing-room to honour 
 Mrs. Butler with a glare, which she unfortunately in- 
 terpreted as being inspired by strong drink. 
 
 “ Danny Keefe, sir,” announced Phillips, “ has brought 
 the hunting outfit for trying on, sir. Danny Keefe says he 
 is short of red cloth, sir.” 
 
 When Hildebrand had again left the room, Standish 
 smiled softly. 
 
 “ My deeds upon my head,” he quoted with gloomy 
 satisfaction. Further, Standish wished to know in a 
 whisper, if Hildebrand had bought the stuff secondhand. 
 
 Dermot Butler, in a voice which failed from extreme 
 shock, asked feebly if they were all joking or if Hildebrand 
 was really getting Daniel Keefe to make a hunting-coat. 
 “ Not making, oh, my heavens,” murmured Dermot. 
 
 “ Also the cords, sir,” said Phillips as he loaded the tray. 
 “ Copy of Mr. Acland’s, sir. Daniel Keefe has expressed 
 all confidence, sir.” 
 
 Dermot walked to the window to get some air. 
 
 “ A man who really has money,” he said. “ Miss Knox, 
 I see the children ; shall we go out ? ” 
 
 Miss Brown was decorously playing Tom Tiddler’s 
 ground upon the gravel. It had never struck any one at 
 Castleknock that if Miss Brown had not flattened her hair 
 and worn severe clothes, she might have been pretty. She 
 had appealing blue eyes, and a small face which severity 
 eclipsed and blotted out. 
 
 Mrs. Butler limped to the door behind her son. They 
 all went out on to the front with the dahlias flaming in 
 the beds, and the far-away grey-blue hills showing clear- 
 cut against a silvery sky. 
 
 Mollie Knox had been silent for a long time. She could 
 not talk of fox-hunting. She could only look in occasion- 
 ally, and then long and wish for what she might not do. 
 
 Every whisper of a gallop roused her. She rode almost 
 
246 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 every day, sometimes on one of Nora’s horses, often on a 
 youngster of Dennis’s. Hands are gifts. Mollie possessed 
 them. She sat straight but never stiffly ; she had the rare 
 gift of sympathy with her horse, which acts as magic on a 
 fretful temper ; which coaxes the heart into a jade. But 
 Mollie never dreamt of hunting. The horses she rode now 
 would be wanted when the strain of three days a week 
 fell on the stables. She would see others go out then, 
 or she would drive out in the motor and watch the 
 hunt jog and pound along the road ; or gallop past 
 her when hounds were running, and then she knew 
 how she would long to join them. Kindly and optimistic 
 letters from Mr. Allenbury failed to cheer Mollie. 
 She was in the humour to resent cheerfulness as relating 
 to the future. The present was Irish in its dreamy 
 comfort, but its comfort could not last. Mollie was 
 too self-willed to brook the restraint of governessing ; 
 the perpetual desire to keep the pupils happy at the 
 expense of discipline had always been with her. The 
 Moriarty children, driving to see her now, accompanied by 
 a sedate lady enwrapped in a decorous manner, greeted 
 her openly. 
 
 “ Auntie loves Miss Hall,” Daisy would say sadly. 
 “ Miss Hall agrees with her about everything— and teaches 
 us French verbs.” 
 
 Dennis played Tom Tiddler energetically. The whisper 
 of evening hissed softly across the world — the flutter of 
 dancing leaves, the twitter of roosting birds, the curious 
 coming hush of night. 
 
 Mrs. Butler detached herself from the group and came 
 to where Mollie stood making mild feints towards an 
 energetic miser. 
 
 “ Shall we take a little walk to the gardens ? ” said Mrs. 
 Butler affably. 
 
 Mollie flushed, and dropped a handful of stones which 
 she was about to throw at Dennis. Mrs. Butler had never 
 taken any notice of her save to take away her sons. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 247 
 
 “ Shall we ? ” said Mrs. Butler, laying her hand on a small 
 round arm. 
 
 At this point all Tom Tiddler’s hoard was reft from 
 beneath his unheeding nose as he stared open-mouthed 
 at his stepmother. 
 
 “ Well, I’m blest,” said Dennis to Dermot, a sudden 
 light gleaming in his eyes. 
 
 Sandy here flung out furious comment to the effect that 
 Dennis was no tiddler. 
 
 “ Tiddle yourself, then,” said Dennis weakly. “ I’ll try 
 to rob.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler walked solemnly, and not without pain, 
 down the shaded walk to the gardens. Hildebrand’s 
 weight was still an aching memory. 
 
 “Such a bad example,” said Mrs. Butler wrathfully, 
 “ that Brandy Hildebrandy person. An intemperate 
 example.” 
 
 Mollie interposed feebly, remarking that Hildebrand was 
 a strict teetotaller. 
 
 “ They,” said Mrs. Butler, limping emphatically, “ are 
 always the worst, because they carry it in their pockets 
 and are afraid to ask for soda-water to mix it with.” 
 
 The fine old garden sloped upwards to its brick walls. 
 Long years had made it too headstrong to keep tidy. 
 Flowers still straggled, though the old fruit-bushes were 
 replaced by new, and the greenhouses were now weather- 
 proof. 
 
 Nora, Mrs. Butler explained, had been poor for too long. 
 She kept that dreadful old retainer of hers, when a Scotch 
 gardener would have this beautiful place fit to look at. 
 “ Reidy,” said the lady,“ is a wasteful, lazy, ignorant old man.” 
 
 A wrathful face raised itself slowly from behind a hedge 
 of late peas, its lips formed the words “ Swheep her ! ” and 
 the face dropped out of sight. Unfortunately for Mollie, 
 she had seen it, and her attempts at self-control lacked 
 firmness. 
 
 Mrs. Butler sat upon a near seat, and feared poor Miss 
 
248 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Knox had contracted a bad cold. She advised cinnamon 
 and eucalyptus. 
 
 “ A wilderness,” said Mrs. Butler. “ A wilderness.” 
 
 The malignant and furious face upraised itself again, 
 followed by a horny hand exhibiting an open pod of 
 huge green peas as a silent testimony of gardenership. 
 “ Swheep her ! ” said the lips once more. 
 
 “ A very bad cold,” went on Mrs. Butler ; “ your eyes 
 are full of tears, and you are choking.” Mrs. Butler 
 coughed. “ I miss dear Evelina so much,” she said. 
 
 Mollie’s cold grew suddenly better, cured by a quick 
 hatred of Miss Hall Marten. 
 
 “ You can keep secrets,” beamed Mrs. Butler. “ I know 
 it. I had hoped for an attachment with Dermot ; but 
 Dermot will probably wed some simple flower : men of 
 the world often do. But Dennis . . . Evelina is interested 
 in Dennis,” said the elder lady pleasantly. “ She has asked 
 him over to King's Lee. She has offered to give him a 
 variety of horses. She has written twice, and Dennis is 
 my husband’s son.” 
 
 “ And Mr. Butler is going ? ” Mollie asked dully. 
 
 “ Dennis says he has no clothes.” The setting forth of 
 this truth made Mrs. Butler annoyed. “ That is, of course, 
 nonsense — shyness. “ Yes, Dennis is going,” said his step- 
 mother. “ I shall do my duty by Dennis. A charming 
 girl, an heiress. Poor Dennis would not know himself as 
 a rich man.” 
 
 Above the hatred of Miss Hall Marten there sprang into 
 Mollie’s mind a bitter dislike of gardens, of melancholy 
 rows of withering peas, of cabbages and apple-trees, of 
 the mass of Michaelmas daisies, the flaunt of dahlias. So 
 Dennis was going to England to marry the sleepy girl 
 of uncertain age. Dennis would have horses and motors 
 and houses ; and she — she was only little Mollie Knox, 
 who might have been fairly well off if some mistake had 
 not been made. 
 
 “ That will be very nice,” said Mollie firmly. Still 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 249 
 
 thinking of the rows of vegetables, she heard Mrs. Butler 
 asking for a promise not to breathe a word to Dennis, not 
 a word of this confidence. 
 
 Mollie promised in weary tones. She turned gladly 
 towards the house to go back. 
 
 Old Reidy raised himself into full view as they left. 
 
 “ Thim is lies,” he said sagely. “ That wan is as full of 
 scheemin’ as an ant.” 
 
 With a seraphic smile Reidy walked stiffly to a basket full 
 of little green lettuce plants which Mrs. Butler was to take 
 home, emptied them out, and replaced them with some 
 seedlings, sown by mistake, of the tenderest summer 
 variety. 
 
 “ Even the Hielandther cannot hatch them from the 
 frosts,” said Reidy happily. 
 
 They met Dennis where the roses sprawled damply over 
 the arch of the garden door. He said he had been sent to 
 look for his mother. He was followed closely by Dermot, 
 and in the narrow walk Mrs. Butler forged ahead, taking 
 her son with her. 
 
 “ Come back to the garden,” said Dennis softly. 
 
 “ I hate gardens ! ” brought out Mollie fiercely. “ They 
 are all peas and cabbages and earth — earth for graves.” 
 
 Then Miss Knox picked and dissected some holly leaves 
 with extreme care and vigour. 
 
 “ To the stables then,” suggested Dennis, mildly alarmed at 
 this outburst ; “but perhaps you’d object to horses there” 
 
 Mollie smiled faintly. “ When you go to England,” she 
 began, her promise forgotten. 
 
 “ I am not,” said Dennis firmly, “ going to England in 
 a four-year-old coat and breeches and gaiters. They might 
 want me to go to church, and then turn me out for being 
 improperly dressed. I’m not going. Come to the stables. 
 Let’s see Araminta’s grey ; as it is a pig you won’t mind it 
 being in a loose box.” 
 
 Mollie gave up holly leaves. She asked Dennis why he 
 was so determined to stay in Ireland. 
 
250 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ IVe got four young horses which I cannot possibly 
 leave,” said Dennis simply. 
 
 Miss Knox replied “ Oh,” extremely huffily, and went 
 slowly towards the house. 
 
 The second post, which had to be fetched, brought her 
 a letter from Mr. Grimes. It was full of stiff friendliness, 
 and it contained an invitation to stay at Lesser Cheriton 
 for a week. Susannah would be delighted. He enclosed a 
 snapshot taken at his door, one showing a squarely com- 
 fortable house, with most of its windows securely closed, a 
 glimpse of the tabernacle in the distance, and his victoria 
 at the door. Susannah Grimes, smiling broadly, stood by his 
 side, with “ Oh, delightful ” palpably upon her lips. 
 
 “ A most extraordinary girl,” said Mrs. Butler coldly, 
 looking at the photograph, “ and Dermot actually wishes 
 me to ask her to stay here. He says he has already asked 
 her himself.” Mrs. Butler sighed. Dermot’s word was 
 generally law. 
 
 The car hummed off into the gathering gloom of the 
 evening. Dennis was asked to stay to dinner, Standish 
 came over, and the tale of horse and hound rang through 
 each course as it had in the afternoon. 
 
 “ Watson told us to-day,” Mollie said— her gloom had 
 fled — “that he was not quite satisfied with Red Fancy. 
 His off fore is inclined to fill a little after work.” 
 
 After Standish had recovered from Araminta’s question 
 of “ What with? ” Hildebrand broke in in lively fear. They 
 looked on the National as a race already won. 
 
 “ There could not be anything really wrong,” he said 
 tremulously. 
 
 “ Plenty of time to come right,” said Sandy gravely, “ and 
 two good youngsters coming on behind him. Watson is 
 already jumping Martinque.” 
 
 Young Mr. Hannyside and Miss Mellicombe lost all 
 appetite for dinner. Allowances were not as property. 
 The diamonds lay at the bank ; the big house in England 
 was empty. Was this to go on year after year, while four- 
 
SANDY MARRIED 251 
 
 footed brutes made futile efforts to come home first at 
 Aintree ? 
 
 If Red Fancy did not win, another twelve months would 
 loom in front. 
 
 “ If he does not win ? ” gasped Araminta. 
 
 “ It’s no use thinking of those trout and salmon,” said 
 Sandy unkindly, “it’s not, Nora.” 
 
 Araminta, in bitter accents, wished to know what trout 
 had to do with racing, and she also considered the inter- 
 ruption unkind. 
 
 “It was wicked, cruel, malicious !” snorted Araminta 
 furiously. “ I shall see Watson to-morrow. I shall tell 
 him we will have a lawsuit if he does not see that the 
 horse’s legs are kept properly empty. I shall tell him we 
 will not continue to be robbed by Allenbury.” 
 
 “ I shall tell him too,” said Hildebrand. 
 
 “If Red Fancy fails,” said Sandy, “you can move your 
 stud, for I’ll resign ; but the moving will not upset the will, 
 Hildebrand.” 
 
 Standish gloomily helped himself to a savoury, and 
 said they had better buy race games and make up their 
 minds to it. 
 
 “ This time fifty years,” said Mr. Blundell cheerfully, 
 “ you’ll be wondering why you ever thought you’d break 
 the bad luck of the stables.” 
 
 “ Angels on horseback, sir,” said Phillips pleasantly to 
 Hildebrand. 
 
 Hildebrand refused ungraciously, with a suspicious look. 
 
 Mr. Watson next morning had to receive more visitors 
 than he cared to see. Dennis had stayed the night. He 
 generally left some clothes at Castleknock. Standish came 
 to see what was wrong with the crack. 
 
 A look at Red fancy, big and blooming, reassured them. 
 It was nothing, Watson said, a mere knock over some 
 fence, perhaps ; nothing. 
 
 Watson had settled down to Ireland with curious ease. 
 He said he had never kept his horses so well- Two of the 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 252 
 
 youngsters had been out to get them used to publicity, and 
 were shaping well. One had picked up a race, greatly 
 to Hildebrand's liking — until he found out the value of the 
 stakes. 
 
 “You will see to him, Watson,” commanded Araminta. 
 “ See he gets no more knocks. For if this horse does not 
 win we shall dispute the will, and you will lose every- 
 thing.” 
 
 Mr. Watson looked respectfully unintimidated. Having 
 presented this expression for at least half a minute, he 
 changed it to one of reserved boredom as he remarked that 
 ’osses were ’osses, and ’e never knew of the Lord cornin’ 
 down to make ’em miracles. 
 
 Then, as the kindly doctor who places a mustard plaster 
 on the spot where his patient has already endured a 
 turpentine stripe, he said blandly that a new hay-shed 
 must be erected before the winter, and that a complete new 
 lot of horse clothing must be ordered. 
 
 “The old ’osses,” said Watson, “can take on with the 
 old rugs.” 
 
 “ The old brutes,” said Hildebrand as he stalked away, 
 wondering angrily what a hay-barn would cost. He 
 paused to presume that if the stud was moved Sandy 
 would allow him for it, and went on again when Nora said 
 briskly they did not want it in the least. 
 
 But when Hildebrand and Araminta had disappeared, 
 Sandy grew really gloomy. 
 
 Red Fancy was a good horse. He had been sixth the 
 year before, but there were other good horses, and the 
 National fences were looming masses of might. There was 
 no real reason to hope that the Hannyside luck would 
 turn. Watson said placidly they had better keep their 
 eyes on Waterford’s Pride, a four-year-old which had won 
 several small Irish races. 
 
 “ In four or five years’ time,” said Watson. 
 
 “In four or five years’ time,” said Sandy irritably. “ By 
 that time, Watson, your Mr. Hannyside will have burnt 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 253 
 
 down the Normantin stables ... for I won’t keep you on 
 here.’* 
 
 Watson looked plaintively at the clouds which chased 
 each other across the sky. “ A bit in hand,” he told them, 
 “ might be better than annoyance, and there was room for a 
 careful man in Cahervalley.” 
 
 “ Delia, I presume,” said Nora as they went away, “will 
 not go to England.” 
 
 Hildebrand had started on his daily practice orl Phillips’s 
 stumpy cob, and as they came to the front door they 
 beheld him, an unwilling and perspiring planet revolving 
 about a grey sun at the full length of the reins. 
 
 “ The stick, sir,” said Phillips, doubling down the steps, 
 “ quite forgot to tell him the grey fears a stick.” 
 
 “ It was Franky Mack, an’ he havin’ a drop in that used 
 to get off and belt him,” explained Mikkelo, also hurrying 
 to the rescue. “ An’ he calls it to mind still.” 
 
 Hildebrand, it appeared, had got off to pick up his cap 
 and had endeavoured to get up again with his stick held 
 out. The result had been ten minutes’ heated dance across 
 the field with the cob refusing to be caught. 
 
 “ Only peculiarity he possesses, sir,” explained Phillips, 
 removing the stick. “ Greatly regret I forgot to explain, 
 sir.” 
 
 Hildebrand also regretted it, and not quite so politely. 
 When he had again got into the saddle he rode off sulkily. 
 The cob was so extremely quiet that after a time he boldly 
 sailed it at a hollow in the field, then at three stones across 
 a gap, from there to a low and ditchless bank and then 
 round again, now contemptuously careless and full of 
 pride. 
 
 “ There is not the faintest doubt of it, Phillips can ride,” 
 said Standish suddenly. 
 
 Phillips had come out on the tall bay. With open jaws 
 and whistling loudly the great brute swept round the field, 
 was put at full speed at a high fence and jumped it with 
 more zeal than skill. The bay would gallop, his long stride 
 
254 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 ate up the ground. Phillips disappeared down a favourite 
 school of Nora’s, riding with complete fearlessness. 
 
 Hildebrand watched him peevishly. He knew he would 
 never have dared to go away at that pace, to ride so care- 
 lessly at those fences, and the knowledge riled him. 
 
 The lawn at Castleknock grew thick with horses now. 
 Nora and Sandy both rode out and cantered away to the 
 lower fields, then Araminta on the mare whose tail never 
 flaunted at an acute angle now, and last of all Dennis 
 Butler and Mollie. Mollie’s light little figure swayed to 
 every movement of her young horse. She sat straight but 
 never stiffly ; her face glowed with the joy of riding. She 
 sat down to a lively buck, got her horse’s head up and sent 
 him off at a canter, coming back with her cheeks pink. 
 
 “ Oh, but he can go,” said Mollie. 
 
 Dennis, urging his somewhat lumpy horse past a stone 
 which he took umbrage at, said he wished all the shows 
 were not over. 
 
 “You would be worth a fortune at them,” he said a little 
 wistfully. 
 
 Araminta brought the unwilling grey across the field 
 and looked severely at Mollie. 
 
 “ It is merely unfitting yourself,” she said furtively, “ I 
 warn you.” 
 
 Mollie replied that she did not unfit herself at present 
 over the fences, she would bear up. She followed Dennis 
 to a wide bank ; beyond that there were some low stone 
 walls and a couple of open ditches which made excellent 
 practice for young horses. 
 
 Araminta flushed wrathfully. She did not like being 
 overlooked. Taking up her whip, she got the mare into an 
 amble and came at the bank herself. The grey mare 
 lurched on to the top with an unwilling scramble. There 
 was a widish ditch outside, seeing it, Araminta clutched 
 the reins nervously and Twilight obeyed the jerk only too 
 willingly. She stood on the top of the bank leisurely 
 shuffling her feet to find a safe resting-place. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 255 
 
 Araminta hit her mildly, the ditch became alarming. 
 
 “ Come back then,” said Araminta nervously. 
 
 The grey mare stood still blandly. She saw succulent 
 grass and she began to pull at it, taking her head away 
 until her fore feet were over the brink of the ditch, and 
 Araminta began to shriek for help. 
 
 “ Gracious ! the brute has stuck upon the top,” said 
 Mollie looking back. 
 
 Dennis, looking farther back still, said heartlessly that 
 with the help of Heaven and Phillips she might not stick 
 there long, and they might as well ride back to pick up 
 bits. He had spied the bay horse unmistakably out of 
 hand, coming down at the very spot where Twilight grazed 
 so placidly. 
 
 Phillips shouted warning. Araminta merely replied 
 with a request for help. Before there was time for any 
 further explanation Perfection had arrived, coming too fast 
 to check himself, smote the grey a smack upon her quarters, 
 which sent her bounding out into the next field in surprised 
 terror. 
 
 “Very cleverly jumped, miss,” said Phillips nervously; 
 the bump had stopped the bay. 
 
 Araminta disentangled herself from the grey's mane and 
 asked Phillips, uncertainly, if that was the usual way to 
 urge on animals on the centre of a fence. 
 
 “ Exceedingly easy way, madame,” said Phillips blandly 
 now. 
 
 Dennis said, “ Heaven forgive you, Phillips,” audibly. 
 
 “ Quite impossible to avoid it, sir,” said Phillips in a 
 whisper. “ But lady took it all in good part, sir. Better 
 go home by the gap, I should fancy, sir.” 
 
 The grey mare showed such an acute fear of the bay, 
 that she kicked at him whenever he approached her. 
 Phillips had only to ride up behind, and she rushed at the 
 lower gap into the next field with lion-like decision. 
 
 Araminta felt that jumping was quite easy, as she got 
 over her second gap. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 256 
 
 “ If I could only ride for ever and always,” said Mollie, 
 “ I should never want anything else on earth.” 
 
 Having made this speech and looked round for 
 sympathy, she was surprised to see Mr. Dennis Butler 
 riding the lumpy horse back at the gap which he had just 
 got over without a mistake. Dennis did not catch Mollie 
 until they were at the stables, and then he appeared to be 
 in a sulky humour. 
 
 “ Rather have a horse than anything ? ” he said, helping 
 Mollie down. 
 
 Mollie sighed a little. “ Than anything I can ever have,” 
 she said. 
 
 Hildebrand was excited at lunch. He had had a letter 
 from Mr. Grimes, and they were enlarging the place of 
 worship at Lesser Cheriton. They had five new attendants 
 at service. Miss Grimes sent kind regards. 
 
 Hildebrand wanted to talk of it, but his small boat of 
 conversation was swept away by the usual wintry flood. 
 
 “ Hit the mare a bang on top of the bank, and said he 
 did it on purpose.” 
 
 t( Every one knew that brute in his own country, before 
 he came here. A steam winch wouldn’t hold him.” 
 
 “ They’re not my stamp, but he sells them. . . . What’s 
 that, Hildebrand, five new what .... Bones, whose bones? ” 
 from Sandy. “ I’d no idea there was hunting at Lesser 
 Cheriton.” 
 
 “ Is there nothing,” said Hildebrand crossly, “ nothing 
 thought or talked of all the winter except fox-hunting ? ” 
 
 “ We do a day with the stag, sometimes,” said Standish 
 sadly. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 For now I know it is no gentle chase, 
 When fearfully the dogs exclaim aloud. 
 
 — Venus and Adonis . 
 
 ~^HE day of an opening meet dawns each year with 
 
 a fresh crisp of excitement, with hopes and fears born 
 with its dim morning. A new season is with us. Bits 
 have been burnished to silver ; saddles polished to un- 
 pleasing state of slippery gloss. Grooms are up early, 
 feverishly busy, each one anxious that his horse shall 
 outvie his rivals. 
 
 Anxieties are thick upon us. Patsy is lugubriously 
 afeared the ould black’s foremost leg will never stand, 
 “ thickenin’ up it is afther work every day.” And the old 
 veteran is an ever-present joy ; one of the things which 
 may never be replaced. The brown mare is much too fat. 
 One looks at her, her sleek and blooming coat, and almost 
 fears there may be a run from the first covert. 
 
 The bay youngster is working just a little light already, 
 and yesterday, after a gallop, there were qualms as to his 
 staying powers. He died away palpably up hill, he 
 laboured in deep ground. 
 
 Who does not know the hopes and fears of the stable 
 before the season commences ? 
 
 That bay may be the best horse in Ireland, he may 
 replace old Warrior. He has jumped gloriously, he can 
 gallop, but if he cannot stay ; the flying Cahervalley pack 
 will soon leave him behind them. 
 
 Tongues wag fast the night before of horses and runs, 
 of forage and saddles ; of where we shall find foxes, and 
 where we shall not. 
 
 “ Rotten fellow, M’Cormac, never bothers to keep a fox. 
 
 17 2 57 
 
258 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 No one ought to speak to him. What’s the use of drawing 
 Ballylusky ? It was a blank all last year. Sheer waste of 
 time running through it. So we grumble and yet hope as 
 a clumping knock heralds Patsy and ‘orders for the 
 morning.’ ” 
 
 “ The old horse for the meet. He won’t go so mad in 
 the crowd, Patsy.” 
 
 Blighting comment from Patsy, “ Faix, then he laid me 
 out on top ov his ears this mornin’. There isn’t one of 
 them can throw the buck Warrior can when he lays 
 his mind to it.” 
 
 “ The mare, then, and shall we chance the bay ? ” 
 
 “ Better let Tim ride the bay an’ take him aisy. Too 
 soon to be flusterin’ him.” 
 
 “ Very well then, that’s settled.” 
 
 Then morning, nosing greyly through the curtains. 
 
 “ Is it fine, Dawson ? ” 
 
 “ It is not, but rainin’, sir.” 
 
 Then after a pause, “ ’Tis only a misht like, clearin’ off. 
 Patsy says the day will hould.” 
 
 Grey clouds race across a pearly background, but little 
 patches of faint blue peep behind them ; soft silver glow 
 of sunshine comes light behind the hurrying clouds. A 
 west wind blows gently. It is not too hot, it is a perfect 
 hunting day. 
 
 Far off the hills crouch, indigo and dim, with golden 
 streaks of light on their sides ; the wind shakes raindrops 
 from the boughs with a cheerful whip. There is wild 
 bustle in the stables, a sound of hurrying feet, of raised 
 voices. Patsy dives in and out to eat a spasmodic break- 
 fast. He’s all cheer now the rug falls to show old Warrior 
 sleek and blooming. A little on the big side, but no horse 
 looks better as he starts. Tim, on the bay, is bidden to go 
 carefully, and remarks dolorously, “ that isn’t the ways 
 he’d like to go, but the ways the bay’ll take him.” 
 
 Then the car seems to know it is hunting-day. She 
 starts with a purr of engines on their best behaviour. She 
 
SANDY MARRIED 259 
 
 scuttles off into the crowd, and really looks out herself for 
 fresh horses. 
 
 An endless string seems going to the meet, so that one 
 wonders how long the first one will have to wait, and how 
 fast the tail will have to go to be there in time, for the 
 Master moves off punctually. 
 
 New pink shines bravely ; horses sidle and buck, full of 
 excitement. 
 
 Fears are dead things with Patsy now. lie beams 
 with pride as he rubs old Warrior with the inevitable 
 duster. 
 
 “ Out like a two-year-old he came, the crossest horse on 
 the road. Sorra a fear that leg won’t sthand. Wasn’t he 
 beltin’ the road with it as if ’twasn’t his own at all. 
 Didn’t Mr. Butler call out to me, ‘ The old horse was never 
 better, Patsy ? ’ An’ there wasn’t one but was starin’ at the 
 colt goin’ by. Signsby, he were near to be med bits of 
 be a smother an’ ran away with Tim ; but sure there was 
 no harrum in him at all ; that was play.” 
 
 The bay, in a white lather, is at the present endeavour- 
 ing to play his heels upon everything he can find handy, 
 and when checked by Tim, plunges up irritably. We look 
 at him proudly. Pie is the find of our lives. Old Warrior 
 will be well replaced. 
 
 Off at last, jogging and bumping at the good old hound 
 trot ; spatters falling on shining boots ; horses kicking and 
 squealing. The silver light has grown stronger, clouds 
 drift, soft as smoke, to a clear horizon. Green fields, green 
 banks all round ; blind tangle of leaves about the ditches 
 as yet, but that does not trouble us to-day. The old 
 horses are not to be put dowrn by any blindness of 
 growth. 
 
 A scurry from Dromineen, long enough for unfit horses 
 — two miles, and a fat cub run to his death. Then on to 
 Ballylusky, grumbling as we go. And then, surprise. The 
 glorious yelp and yowl of tongues ring through the woods. 
 Two cubs break out across the park. Who abuses 
 
26 o 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 M’Cormac now ? We ride to where he watches, and tell 
 him what a fine day it is cheerfully. 
 
 “ Two a-foot, splendid ! ” we add. 
 
 M’Cormac turns a thoughtful profile ; it may or may 
 not be with intent that he says, as he rides away, that 
 it is more threatening than it was in the morning. 
 
 So the day wanes. One of the Ballylusky foxes runs 
 hard, right away up the hills, and gets to ground there. 
 Watch the tail come labouring up, and do we see one which 
 labours almost last? A light bay, galloping as though he 
 had to root up each piece of land he moved over. We look 
 and say it does not matter. The mare, far as she is, has 
 faced the hill like a bird. 
 
 Tim whispers dolorously, as we ride home, “The 
 minnit I axed him to face the hill there was the ind of 
 him. He's one to be selling sir, an’ he fat. He is no use 
 at all.” 
 
 A hopeless non-stayer ; but Patsy smiles when we reach 
 the stables; the doubtful tendon is flat and clean. If the 
 colt is no use, what matter, it is tea time. Some fool will 
 take him for his looks, and we’ll buy another. 
 
 So come and go the opening days, with the youngsters 
 growing and the old ones passing, obeying the law of life. 
 And so some day for us will come a year when there is no 
 excitement in it, when hopes and fears will give place to 
 wistful memories. And we will watch the grey clouds 
 lower, listen to the faint patter of the rain, turn our eyes 
 from gleams of sunshine, and say, to give ourselves false 
 comfort, “ It’s a wretched day to be out, anyway.” 
 
 The opening meet dawned at Castleknock with perhaps 
 a little excitement than in other houses. 
 
 Nora was out by seven, and rushing round every stable 
 in the place. Mikkelo, now a groom for the hunting season, 
 endeavoured to do his own work and every one else’s, 
 with extreme detriment to his own and some confusion 
 to the others.’ The cook fried six extra eggs, and re- 
 viled the hens for ill-behaviour and laziness because she 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 26 L 
 
 could not do seven. The heat of getting things ready was 
 on the house. 
 
 “ Mary, did you forgit to lay the iron on the missus's 
 tie? God forgive ye. There it is, and 'twill be hot on 
 her neck now. I have not the flask, Mikkelo. Patsy 
 has it, he keeps it always. Isn’t it there on the shelf, 
 oberight me? Well, Patsy laid it there, if ’tis. Phillips, 
 have ye the corkshrew ? The missus says, Mrs. Cafferty, 
 if breakfast is not ready in two minnits, she’ll be ragin’. 
 What’s the use of saying ye waited for the lasht eggs to be 
 laid ? ’Twill only be teasin’ her.” 
 
 “ Did I take the masther’s boot hooks, Misther Phillips ? 
 I think I had one in me hand yesterday gettin’ out a six- 
 pence I let roll under the big press. Clap yer eyes down, 
 for the hook might be inside yet.” 
 
 Dignified remonstrances from Phillips meeting with 
 scant attention. A suggestion that Maria should herself 
 kneel upon the floor returned with “ God save ye, an’ the 
 spoons not rubbed up on me yet.” 
 
 Araminta’s door was constantly opened as she wailed 
 for assistance. Her tie would not fasten. Her gaiters — 
 she had not bought boots — showed an obstinate desire to 
 gape. 
 
 Hildebrand had had his nerves strained by the delay of 
 Danny Keefe to finish his hunting-garments until the last 
 moment. The village tailor appeared smiling at ten the 
 night before, with a large parcel in his arms. “ Stitch 
 for stitch, an’ seam for seam, I have them imat^^d,” he 
 said proudly, “ as ye towlt me to, sir. An’ I could not 
 do it before, sir, with an order on me to make Cloghisys’s 
 weddin’ suit, an’ he threatenin’ to bate me if ’twasn’t 
 done. An’ two fine-draws in ould Mr. Claney’s huntin’ 
 coat too.” 
 
 The suit had arrived too late to be tried on, but it lay 
 ready in sombre newness in Hildebrand’s room. A coat 
 of sober black, a grey waistcoat, and thick yellow cord 
 breeches ; all of the cheapest material he could find. 
 
262 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 October had brought a new excitement to Hildebrand. 
 Miss Grimes was coming to Castle Butler for the first meet. 
 She had written to accept the invitation, but she had made 
 no response to four pages of fervent outpourings from 
 Hildebrand when he wrote to express his joy. 
 
 “ You will see me out upon a hunter,” he said. “ In 
 Rome one must do as the Romans. I have purchased a 
 beautiful bay animal ; a little headstrong, but nothing 
 in the hands of a skilled horseman. Mrs. Butler tells 
 me you come over on Sunday, and we shall meet on 
 Monday at the opening meet of the foxhounds.” 
 
 “ I will call in and ride on with you,” said Standish 
 Blundell, who came to tea on Sunday. “ I want to see 
 the start.” 
 
 Through all the bustle Mollie Knox looked on with 
 wistful, clouded eyes. She had longed to ride, but she 
 would not take the horse which Nora offered her. She 
 knew that it was one of the old stagers, and would be 
 wanted on the Wednesday. 
 
 “ It's nonsense, not riding,” said Nora; “nonsense, 
 child” ; but she said it very kindly, and insisted on Mollie 
 driving the pony to see the fun. 
 
 “ I wish,” said Nora one afternoon as she went up the 
 steps slowly, “ that I could see what old Reggie put in his 
 letter. I will make the girl stay here until I know, and 
 it may all be nothing.” 
 
 Mrs. Acland then expressed a severe desire to inflict 
 punishment on the departed Mr. Hannyside. “He knew 
 those two would do nothing for her,” said Nora wrathfully. 
 “ Or perhaps he relied on their convictions being real, and 
 thought they would refuse taking the racers.” 
 
 “ He never thought that,” said Sandy decidedly. “ He 
 has got some joke up his sleeve, and I wish that laughing 
 time had arrived. That Butler boy ? ” questioned Sandy. 
 
 “Which one?” said Nora. “ Dermot is not allowed to 
 look, and Dennis can’t afford to, unless the joke is a real 
 joke after all.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 263 
 
 The day of this particular first meet was gustily fine. 
 Little brown clouds drove over a light blue sky, leaving chill 
 patters of rain as they passed ; the wind which rollicked 
 up with them was fresh and cool. The meet was only two 
 miles from Droveen, so that there was no flurry of early 
 breakfast. Nora took hers comfortably in her every- 
 day clothes, but Araminta came fully equipped, with the 
 grey habit opening over a waistcoat of cerulean blue, 
 and a starched tie catching her severely just under her 
 chin. 
 
 Araminta said loftily that it was so like Mrs. Acland 
 not to be ready in time. “You will rush off,” she said, 
 “ at the last minute, and fling on everything in an uncom- 
 fortable hurry.” 
 
 “As well,” said Nora cheerily, “as in an uncomfortable 
 leisure. I like a good breakfast on hunting days.” 
 
 At the end of this sentence she looked meaningly at 
 Miss Mellicombe, who was visibly choked by her tie. 
 
 “The glowworm shows the matin to be near,” said 
 Standish, coming in, “ and I’m breakfasting here. The 
 two old aunts have gone on their annual visit to their 
 cousin something, so here I am.” 
 
 “ Tell the cook,” said Nora, “ to do some more eggs.” 
 Maud returned to say that the cook had “seven extry in 
 the brown dish, she havin’ delayed breakfast waitin’ on the 
 seventh.” So Standish was provided for. 
 
 “ It’s Hildebrand that I came to see,” he said mournfully, 
 “ in Danny Keefe’s clothes.” 
 
 Araminta, who detested Standish, remarked snappily that 
 “ Hildebrand was not at all likely to appear in clothes 
 belonging to Danny Keefe ” ; and she coughed, 
 
 “Take a knife to it,” said Standish thoughtfully, “ or it 
 will cut your ears. A knife, and fold the edges over.” 
 Araminta fingered her tie and flushed haughtily. The 
 sound of a raised voice came from outside, blaring heavily, 
 intermixed with Phillips’s smooth replies. 
 
 “Send for Danny Keefe. Certainly, sir. If any one can 
 
264 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 be found to fetch him, sir. Rather ill-fitting, sir ; sir — 
 certainly ; but perhaps alteration. . . . Would advise break- 
 fast now, sir. No use killing Daniel, sir; better eat 
 breakfast, sir.” 
 
 At this point Hildebrand, pallid with rage, burst into 
 the dining-room. 
 
 Standish got up. Nora dropped a piece of bacon into 
 her tea. Sandy sat in outraged amazement. 
 
 Hildebrand was correctly attired in the black coat and 
 yellow breeches, but, save that the coat covered him, it did 
 not otherwise appear to aspire further. Its tail began just 
 at his waist ; it hung in folds across his back, gaped lower 
 down ; the breeches did not meet the ready-made boots, 
 which showed such painful affection for Hildebrand’s fat 
 calves. 
 
 “ I — er — oh, good gracious!” said Sandy. “ Weren’t 
 you fitted, Hildebrand ? ” Sandy abandoned himself to 
 unseemly chuckles. 
 
 “ He took my measure,” yelped Hildebrand, “ and fitted 
 pieces of it ; and the fool ” 
 
 “ Danny Keefe,” said Phillips, “ is here, sir. The clothes, 
 it appears, being, so to speak, on his mind, he came up lest 
 there should be alterations.” 
 
 “ Here’s snip and nip and cut and slish and slash . . . 
 here is the note of fashion,” said Standish, walking slowly 
 round Hildebrand. 
 
 “ Alterations ! ” roared Hildebrand. “ Remaking, with 
 new stuff ! ” 
 
 “ Bring him in,” said Nora faintly. 
 
 Danny Keefe, whose deformed leg had doubtless made 
 him take up the art of tailoring, limped in nervously. 
 Behind his nervous air lurked one of dogged stupidity, 
 and a certain assertiveness. 
 
 “ Do you see ; you — man ! ” wailed Hildebrand wildly. 
 “ Do you see your work ? ” 
 
 “Jakus!” said Mr. Keefe softly, and made no further 
 comment. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 265 
 
 Mollie Knox had given up trying not to, and was 
 laughing as quietly as she could. 
 
 Danny Keefe skated round his clothes, his hand held to 
 his half-shaven lip. 
 
 “ Do you expect a gentleman to hunt in them, Danny ? ” 
 said Standish gloomily. “ Do you now ; and what was 
 at you ? ” 
 
 “ Seam for seam and stitch for stitch,” said Daniel Keefe 
 firmly. “ ‘ The exact same as the copy was me orthers, 
 and then ye can’t go wrong,’ he said. Wasn’t I up with 
 thries on, and he near to whip the face off me because 
 I said he must have the coat aisy when he’s round 
 and fat.” Here Mr. Keefe laid his hand on his own lean 
 waist-line. “‘Copy Misther Acland’s,’ says he; ‘that’s 
 from a London tailor. None of ye’re own idees,’ says he. 
 Bejabers, I don’ it, as ye can all see. If the masther’ d 
 peel off he’d slip into them same now as if ’twas a snail 
 gettin’ back to his shell. Will yer honour let me lay the 
 coat on ye?” said Dan unhappily, “ for isn’t it hard on me 
 to be blemt now for doin’ what I was towld to? ‘Copy,’ 
 says he, and I copied,” Mr. Keefe gulped. 
 
 “ The cut — the style ! ” cried Hildebrand. “ Good 
 heavens, man — not the size. Not the size, you idiot!” 
 
 Sandy was two inches shorter than Hildebrand. He 
 was broad across the chest and leaner in the flank. As 
 I have said, the tails of the coat began above Hildebrand’s 
 waist. The yellow breeches were also decidedly too short 
 and unhappily tight. 
 
 “ Short of cloth I was too,” said Danny stolidly, “ pin- 
 chin’ and strivin’ to make it do. If you had but to let me 
 be, sir, I could have made ye a ridin’ suit as good as any in 
 all Ireland.” 
 
 Hildebrand sat down in bitter gloom. He cast curses at 
 Daniel Keefe until the tailor grew sullen, and showed some 
 inclination to reply. 
 
 “ There is a coat of mine,” said Standish, “ over here, 
 one I never took back after a wet day last year. He can 
 
266 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 wear it. And Dan says he can fix the mustard shorts, so 
 eat your breakfast, Hildebrand, it might be your last : there’s 
 always that chance on a hunting morning,” said Standish 
 gravely. 
 
 Hildebrand, with a pained expression, took a second 
 egg, but he ate it without appetite. If anything happened 
 to him Northlap would pass to Araminta. The fortitude 
 of his religion did not prepare him for resignation on that 
 point. 
 
 “ Hannan wishes to know, sir, if you purchased the heavy 
 bit for to-day,” said Phillips from the door. “ Hannan says, 
 sir, he has only the shabby snaffle with cracked reins, 
 sir.” 
 
 “ Which you rode him in ? ” said Hildebrand crossly. 
 
 ‘‘Pardon me, sir, used my only double bridle, sir,” said 
 Phillips. 
 
 Hildebrand broke some toast viciously. He snapped 
 out that Mr. Watson could provide bridles, and directed 
 that one of the newest was to be immediately procured. 
 
 “ Racing snaffles,” said Phillips softly, as he left the 
 room. 
 
 Hildebrand’s meanness had prevented him from buying 
 a bit — to him snaffles and curbs were very much alike — and 
 he did not see why he should buy when the saddle-room 
 was thick with shining bits and supple reins. 
 
 When, later, he got his plump form into Standish’s coat, 
 he surveyed himself in a long glass, immersed by alternate 
 waves of distrust and enthusiasm. Standish’s coat was 
 not a super-excellent fit, yet Hildebrand thought that it 
 became him well. He was not so certain of the cheap 
 hunting-hat which he had purchased in Cahervalley, nor 
 with the hurried cobble of patching and lacing with which 
 his yellow breeches had been induced to meet his top boots. 
 But Hildebrand thought of Susannah as he took up the 
 ashplant which he had borrowed from Watson. His 
 gloves were lemon colour, made of what the shopman at 
 McSweeney’s had termed “ rale doghide.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 267 
 
 It was not until they reached the doorstep that Hilde- 
 brand recollected with a qualm that he must face the 
 meet on his own horse. He had been riding Phillips's cob 
 regularly. 
 
 The big bay was sidling and chafing at the door, held 
 by Hannan, who had been so busy all the morning that he 
 had had no time to exercise his charge. He told Mikkelo 
 of his forgetfulness. 
 
 “ And Monday, too,” said Mikkelo reprovingly. 
 
 “ Sunday or Wednesday, he would make off any ways in 
 this bit,” said Hannan resignedly. “ An' that same is so 
 much off me mind.” Then, grinning softly, he added that 
 “ 'twas a murtherin' pity one could not mash up the two 
 horses and make a divide,” for the grey stood with drooping 
 head, sorely resenting the certainty of exercise. 
 
 “ Ye will not howld him in this bit, sir,” said Hannan 
 cheerfully to Hildebrand, “ whatever chance ye might have 
 with the curb I axed ye to buy.” 
 
 Hildebrand, looking nervously at Perfection, suggested 
 borrowing one from Mr. Acland. 
 
 “ He has but three, an’ they out,” said Hannan. “ I.thried 
 that before I got ye the one above, that is only fit for guid- 
 ing racehorses in thracks. Lay yer hand on his head, 
 Mikkelo, awhile, while I puts up the lady.” 
 
 It took a great deal of time to settle Araminta in her 
 saddle ; she climbed to it with care, but once there a multi- 
 tude of straps and adjustments kept her fidgeting for ten 
 minutes. 
 
 “That will do,” said Araminta at last. “Yes, now they 
 can hold your horse, Hildebrand. Hannan is so exceed- 
 ingly clumsy. Go on, darling. Chirrup.” 
 
 “ Will I give her a wallop to hearten her, miss ? ” said 
 Hannan, dealing an echoing smack on the grey's quarters. 
 
 The result was the nervous prancing of Perfection round 
 the gravel, with Mikkelo clinging to his bridle. 
 
 Delay and unwonted rest had upset the bay ; he received 
 Hildebrand with grudging distrust; he flung him to his 
 
268 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 neck with a kick and back to his quarters with a rear, and 
 then he passed the others at a gallop. 
 
 Phillips, who was coming out later on, watched the 
 start. “ Should have impressed the safety of the cob upon 
 him,” said Phillips to Mikkelo, “ but 1 feared the trick of 
 lying down, Mikkelo, awkward in a hunt. Perhaps though, 
 for Mr. Acland’s sake/’ said Phillips regretfully, “ funerals 
 so very upsetting to a household, Mikkelo.” 
 
 “ An’ him that would have no waste,” returned Mikkelo, 
 “ but the throuble of his berryin’ is all that would be out 
 of him.” 
 
 Araminta, diligently flicking Twilight with her stick, told 
 Hildebrand that she really feared his horse might prove 
 too much for him. “ Standish’s mare might, after all, have 
 been better,” she said. “ Some people take to riding and 
 others do not, Hildebrand,” and Araminta sat to one side 
 contentedly. 
 
 Hildebrand gave back a breathless answer concerning 
 cows and blood horses, most of its bitterness being lost 
 amidst the bay’s uneasy prancings. 
 
 “ Looks very well this morning, sir,” said Watson, riding 
 up. “ A very fine horse until you begin to look at— that — ■ 
 er — is into him, Mr. Hannyside, and should gallop too.” 
 
 The road was thick now with hunters, traps, and motors. 
 The bay subsided suddenly to a rapid jog, which he kept 
 up, despite all hauling at his head. A light racing snaffle 
 is not the best of bits for a puller, and the big horse was 
 revelling in it. Araminta, on the other hand, found great 
 difficulty in keeping her grey from dropping back to a 
 stumbling walk. Mr. Costello, coming out of his lane, 
 riding a light middled black which had been abandoned 
 as the worst rearer in Ireland, heard himself hailed 
 peevishly. 
 
 u I do not think this animal is sufficiently spirited,” said 
 Araminta, “ for hunting purposes.” 
 
 Bill Costello, dropping behind surreptitiously dealt the 
 grey a swish with the lash. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 269 
 
 “ Howld her together, miss,” he said, " that’s all she 
 wants, an* use a spur. It isn’t nice for a lady to be 
 hawlin’ and draggin’ on silly buck-jumpers all the day. 
 That is a real lady’s mare I tell ye. At the end of the 
 day, when others is wore out, she’ll be the same as she is 
 now. Is it a snaffle,” said Mr. Costello, suddenly changing 
 his tone, “ that yer cousin has in the bay horse’s 
 mouth ? ” 
 
 As Araminta replied loftily that it was a bit procured 
 from their trainer, Costello said some prayers to himself 
 and remarked aloud that he was sorrowful he had bizness 
 up beyond, and might not be long out hunting that day. 
 
 “ A snaffle ? ” muttered Costello. “ God save us — a 
 snaffle to one that makes mock of a gag. There is but 
 one thing that can save him,” confided the dealer gloomily 
 to his helper. “ That the horse may make up his mind 
 that’s a bundle rowlin’ above ov him, and he might sthop 
 to kick it off.” 
 
 The meet was at four cross roads. The ordinary traffic 
 of the country crawled, with due apology, through wedged 
 masses of horses and motors. Grooms were polishing ; 
 owners getting up ; hunters were sidling and backing and 
 squealing in their lightness of heart. 
 
 Sandy turned to watch the arrival of his charges. 
 Araminta, unaware that Costello was flicking on the mare 
 assiduously, was bumping to an unusually lively trot ; 
 Hildebrand’s bay, with its head held straight out, bored 
 a sullen way through the crowd, until Patsy, jumping from 
 the young one he was riding, took Perfection by the bridle 
 and held him. 
 
 Hildebrand then recovered his breath and looked round 
 pompously. The owner of Red Fancy and the Northlap 
 stud had now arrived at the meet to be looked at. 
 
 “Can’t ride, can he?” said Derick Knox Harding to 
 Sandy. Sandy replied that even in his own worst days 
 he had never been as bad, and that Hildebrand was on a 
 puller which he wouldn’t buy a bit for. 
 
270 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ He mustn’t think because I look mild I can’t talk,” 
 said Derick grinning. 
 
 “ Lead this animal on,” said Hildebrand to Patsy. 
 “ Good-morning, Knox Harding. I am looking forward 
 to hunting here, I hear you are a skilled huntsman.” 
 
 Derick replied pleasantly that he trusted Hildebrand 
 would be able to look back on it. “ F'or with that bit 
 
 on. . . . if your horse pulls ” said Derick thoughtfully. 
 
 “ But hope you’ll enjoy it, Hannyside.” 
 
 “ Here ! Take that brute away from my hounds. Pull 
 him back. Stop him, turn him ! ” suddenly shouted the 
 Master. 
 
 As Perfection, in response to a frantic jerk, merely 
 opened his mouth and kicked again, Hildebrand made 
 excuse. 
 
 “ It was the dog which tickled his heels,” he said, sawing 
 vainly. “ I assure you, the dog there tickled. . . 
 
 When Perfection had stood nearly straight on end in 
 response to a slash of Derick’s whip, and Patsy had caught 
 the horse and backed him, Hildebrand remarked with 
 dignity that he feared Mr. Knox Harding had a most 
 excitable temper. “ A person of my position,” said Hilde- 
 brand irritably, “ should be treated with due respect. I am 
 most annoyed.” 
 
 As they jogged to the first covert — a patch of dark 
 green gorse on a steep green hill side, Hildebrand caught 
 sight of the Butlers’ motor coming up one of the side 
 roads. A good deal of bright hat marked the presence of 
 Miss Grimes. His endeavour to stop the bay was com- 
 pletely futile, so he was carried past almost unnoticed — 
 his waving lemon-gloved hand alone marking him. 
 
 “ Mr. Hannyside on a horse. How delightful,” said 
 Susannah, giggling. 
 
 “ Mr. Acland,” called out Mrs. Butler, “ that youth will 
 hurt some one, he cannot ride, and if Nora has forgotten 
 to lock up. . . . it’s just the morning he would indulge in 
 alcohol.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 271 
 
 “ How delightful ! ” said Miss Grimes, “ the hounds, I 
 mean. Oh, if I could ride a horse. Oh, Mr. Butler ” 
 
 Dermot, immaculate in swallow-tailed pink, and canary 
 waistcoat of perfect cut, got on a light brown mare of 
 some value. He looked well riding, and if he was no 
 thruster went along quietly, often missing hunts because 
 he was too lazy to hustle for a start. His mother paid any 
 sum for a horse which pleased her, so that he was generally 
 well mounted. 
 
 “ Oh — oh — oh,” said Susannah, “ oh, where is the fox ? ” 
 
 Dermot hinted that the fox was in the covert ; he then 
 advised Miss Grimes and her father to leave the motor and 
 stand on a bank which he pointed out, where they would 
 probably see the whole hunt pass by. Then he strolled 
 off, and Susannah’s eyes followed him rapturously. 
 
 “ Oh, delightful ! ” she said. 
 
 Mrs. Butler, examining the crowd, remarked unhappily 
 that she did not see Dennis. “ He went off for his horse ; 
 he would not come with us,” she said uneasily. “ He 
 could not. Oh, there is that Knox girl — thank goodness, 
 not riding.” 
 
 Mollie, driving a tubby pony with supreme carelessness, 
 had forgotten to feel sad, and was smiling from Dennis to 
 Dermot, as they rode close to the governess-car. Dennis’s 
 pink was old and stained, but the brown five-year-old, 
 Gameboy, which he rode, was one of the best-looking 
 horses at the meet. Lengthy and powerful, with both 
 quality and substance, if he did not go wrong, Dennis’s 
 oats and hay ran some chance of being paid for. 
 
 “ If he were mine,” said Dermot, “ I would not jump him 
 over a fence, but Dennis risks everything.” 
 
 Dennis said he bought them to make hunters of, and 
 just then Mollie saw Miss Grimes. 
 
 “ The delightful girl.” 
 
 “ She is certainly good-humoured,” answered Dermot, 
 looking rather doubtfully at Mollie’s pretty face. Mollie 
 was not always easy to get on with. 
 
272 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Capaghmere gorse is thick. * Hounds had not opened 
 when the straggling crowd got to the top of the hill and 
 settled down to wait. The first faint whimper sounded as 
 Susannah and her father clambered to the bank to watch. 
 
 The bay horse had grown suddenly sober. He had 
 come up the hill decorously, amid a kicking, bucking 
 crowd, but he walked round and round exactly as he 
 chose, with his neck stiffened and his ears laid back ill- 
 temperedly. 
 
 “ They’ve found ! ” said Sandy. 
 
 The whimper was taken up and deepened to a crashing 
 chorus. Hats were crammed down. Bucking horses 
 stood quiet now, shivering with excitement ; pied heads 
 rose and fell through the close gorse. There he was. 
 
 A little red-brown thing leaped into view, dropped 
 lightly from the fence, and slipped up the field, a perfect 
 volley of yells greeting him, and at least twenty eager 
 spirits galloped off hotly in his wake. 
 
 Being a mere cub, who had not realized that safety lay 
 in making his point, the fox wheeled from the yells and 
 slipped down a hedge back to covert. Hounds came 
 flashing out up the field, spreading out, then darting 
 away to over-run it where their fox had turned back. In 
 the mad rush for the first gap, Hildebrand recognized his 
 impotence. He was carried away in the crush. He saw 
 steep places under his horse’s feet ; he felt the lurch and 
 slip on a rock, he heard shouts which he feared were meant 
 for him, next moment the crowd seemed to fall back, he 
 saw a clear space in front, and felt the bay lengthen his 
 stride as he, too, saw it. 
 
 Some one shrieked “ Hold hard ! ” Some one else took 
 it up. Hildebrand, aware of a long green field, and the 
 blissful ease of seeing no need to stop, took no notice. 
 He was, in fact, inclined to be elated. The hounds were 
 just in front, and he was already proving his prowess as a 
 rider. He knew one ought to keep close to them. That 
 their heads were up bore no meaning to Hildebrand ; he 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 273 
 
 had caught sight of Susannah on the bank, and he hoped 
 she was looking at him. 
 
 Next moment Perfection galloped straight through the 
 pack, and Derick Knox Harding tried to remember so 
 many things to say that he could only gasp incoherently. 
 
 Pansy rushed limping from a blow, Duchess sat down 
 and yelled over a bruised rib. Treason and Frantic, 
 treasured joys of Derick’s heart, appeared to be badly hurt. 
 Perfection flew on down the hill, carrying Hildebrand out 
 of earshot. 
 
 “ One of Costello’s cures. A runaway brute. Who let 
 him buy it ? ” said Derick furiously. “ Why the — what the 
 — were you all ? ” 
 
 When the Master had run down, Standish explained 
 sadly that Hildebrand Hannyside had done his own pur- 
 chasing. 
 
 “ Oh, look at Hildebrand,” cried Mollie, who had joined 
 Miss Grimes. “ Look ! ” 
 
 Dermot Butler, in horrified tones, said that Hildebrand 
 was being run away with. 
 
 “ It looks delightful,” said Susannah. “ Look, papa.” 
 
 “ And, good heavens ! he has killed four hounds,” said 
 Dermot faintly. 
 
 Standish, looking at the now vacant sky-line, said it 
 would be much better for Hildebrand if he died quietly 
 out of sight below there than to come up and find out what 
 he’d done. 
 
 At this moment Dermot caught Miss Grimes’s hand 
 and held it, and Standish, in blood-curdling whispers, 
 bade Mr. Grimes to be still as mice. For, right beside 
 them, came the now determined cub, undeterred by any- 
 thing save the desire to leave that pack of yelling hounds 
 behind him. 
 
 “ The hounds will come just here,” breathed Mollie, 
 dancing on the bank. “ They must follow the fox.” 
 
 “You’ll be down,” said Standish gloomily, “and the 
 water’s wet in the ditch.” 
 
 18 
 
274 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Mr. Grimes placed a large hand on Mollie’s waist to 
 support her. 
 
 In a wave hounds crushed out through the gorse, 
 gloriously eager, and even as they did, something broke 
 through the waiting crowd and flashed straight down 
 at them. 
 
 The something was Hildebrand on Perfection, the bay, 
 quite out of control, with his mouth wide open, and 
 galloping hard. 
 
 “ Oh, my only aunt, he’s going to do it again,” said 
 Derick weakly. “ Stop him. Catch him. Kill him. Send 
 him home ! ” 
 
 “ He has us entirely disgraced,” said Patsy gravely to 
 Phillips. 
 
 “ It’s Mr. Hannyside,” cried Miss Grimes. “ He is coming 
 up in a great hurry. He thinks he is late.” 
 
 “ Pull up,” yelled Dermot. “ Get away.” 
 
 “ He is not able,” boomed Standish, making for safety. 
 
 Before there was time for more, the bay had again cut 
 his way through the pack, and come at them. He caught 
 Dermot’s mare in the quarters, turning her into the shallow 
 ditch, and sending her rider over her shoulders ; he leaped 
 the bank just as Dermot and Miss Grimes rolled together 
 into the far ditch, which was muddy, and Mr. Grimes, 
 who was large and strong, had clasped Mollie to him, 
 and was holding her head against his shoulder that she 
 might not look. 
 
 The rest of the crowd had fled, yelling wildly. 
 
 “ He will be kilt. He has us kilt anyways. Law r s ! but 
 Mr. Butler is destriyed, himself an 5 the lady.” 
 
 With new pink mud-besmeared, with trails of slimy weed 
 about his hands, Dermot emerged from the wet ditch ; one 
 arm was w^ound about Miss Grimes, who put her hat on 
 again and merely smiled. 
 
 “ Hunting is exciting. Oh, delightful!” she said, 
 beaming. 
 
 There are moments wdien good-humour may prove trying. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 275 
 
 Dermot looked at Miss Knox disentangling herself from the 
 elder’s embrace, and he frowned. 
 
 Three fields away hounds were racing towards Bally- 
 lusky on a breast high scent, a riderless horse close to 
 them. 
 
 “ I’d say that was ye’re mare, Masther Dermot, ’’observed 
 a voice sympathetically. 
 
 “ Hasn’t she the heart in her, the crayther. Sure he’ll 
 soon catch her in the car.” 
 
 Dermot, as they rushed down the hill, was not sure that 
 he would not like to kill Hildebrand. 
 
 “ He has — greatly — greatly — changed,” panted Mr. 
 Grimes from the background. 
 
 “ Oh, delightfully, delightfully funny,” said Susannah. 
 
 When the motor hummed on its way, it did not carry 
 Mr. Grimes. He was clinging to the side of the governess- 
 car, as the tubby pony hurled himself along the road at a 
 mad gallop. 
 
 “For we must catch them,” cried Mollie. “Oh look, 
 there’s Dennis Butler, look, jumping there ; and there’s 
 Nora. Oh, how she rides ! And that’s the Master, and — 
 that ” 
 
 “ That was a heap of stones — a high one,” remarked the 
 shaken Mr. Grimes. “ If you watched the road, Miss 
 Knox.” 
 
 “ Then how,” asked Mollie,” could I watch the hunt ? ” 
 
 Mr. Grimes adjusted his glasses and looked up ; the 
 spirit of enthusiasm gathered strength. He forgot danger 
 as he too watched. 
 
 “ No one has apparently any fear,” cried Mr. Grimes. 
 “ Or they ought not to. . . . Shame ! Go on you ! Every one 
 else has got over. Oh, fie. Cowardly ! ” This in loud 
 tones to a distant rider who was wavering at a boggy 
 ditch. “Oh, there they are. Well jumped — well over! 
 I do declare,” beamed Mr. Grimes. u I wish I could have 
 hunted. Tally ho ! You chou ! ” chanted the elder of 
 Greater Bethel, growing more excited still. “ The fields ! 
 
276 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Your place is in the fields ! ” he called suddenly and sternly 
 to three road riders who clattered up behind them. “ Which 
 way are they going? You can see. Follow them ! ” he 
 declaimed sonorously. 
 
 Hounds were swinging up the hill, and bending left and 
 back towards the road. Motors and traps thundered on 
 to get round and meet them, believing they were running 
 to Ballylusky. Mollie spied a narrow boreen, and wheeled 
 the excited pony. “We can go up there. We can cut 
 them off ! ” she shrieked. 
 
 The pony dashed over ruts and stones, becoming frantic 
 as the uneven yap-yap of hounds grew plainer. The 
 boreen ended at an open gate leading into a flat, long 
 field, and hounds were coming straight across to it. 
 
 “ We might find a gap in the next fence,” said Mollie. 
 “ Shall we ” 
 
 “ I — see the fox/’ yelled Mr. Grimes ; “the fox ! He is 
 coming over there. Go on ! Go on ; gap or no gap ! ” he 
 declaimed heroically. “ Let us see this hunt and its kill.” 
 
 It was his hand which smote the tubby pony, so that 
 they rushed up the field rocking and bumping. 
 
 Now the tale of the hunt was one which some people 
 were never likely to forget. When Hildebrand, with 
 despair in his soul, had scattered Miss Grimes and her 
 father on the top of the hill, he had cursed all hounds 
 and all hunting bitterly, and believed his cup to be full. 
 But the bay horse was not half finished with him. The 
 great, awkward brute fled down the hill with nerve- 
 shattering slips on slabs of rock ; then steadied suddenly, 
 and just as Hildebrand was beginning to sit up and hope 
 that Susannah might take it all for fiery zeal and prowess 
 on his part in pursuit of hounds, Perfection suddenly 
 stiffened his neck afresh. 
 
 “I will ride up now and explain,” panted Hildebrand. 
 “ I will say I pulled out of the hunt to do so. And oh, 
 thank Heaven, hounds have disappeared, and I see the 
 road. Stop, you — you brute!” shrieked Hildebrand, as 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 277 
 
 the bay rushed at a high, narrow bank. “ You are not 
 to jump it. I will put knives in your beastly mouth. I 
 
 will put a saw ! Oh ” The rest was lost in the bay’s 
 
 mane. 
 
 “ If we folly him we should airn a shillin’ handy,’’ 
 muttered one Pat Geogohan as Hildebrand passed. “ Make 
 on, Mazty Swift, to the wall below ; he will surely fall off 
 there.” 
 
 Perfection had caught sight of vanishing horses, hence 
 his fresh flight. He tore along completely beyond control. 
 He swept like a tornado across the road where Hildebrand 
 had hoped to find sanctuary ; he put his wailing rider into 
 different portions of the saddle at each fence. The horrors 
 of many deaths were with Hildebrand as yawning ditches 
 swam muddily beneath him, as hideous cairns of loose stones 
 menaced his onward rush, as green banks were flicked and 
 flung behind. A turn brought them close up to hounds — 
 too close for the Master’s comfort ; but fortunately the bay 
 was giving out a little, and did no more mischief. 
 
 “ Begin to be quite sorry, Patsy, that I did not persevere 
 with that horse,” said Phillips, spurring his cob along. 
 “ Good horse, Patsy.” 
 
 “ Until he be done,” said Patsy. “ God save us ; he but 
 shuck the heels ov him above that bank ! ” 
 
 Hildebrand had learnt to work his hands into the mane, 
 and so cling on over the jumps. He began to feel the 
 bay subsiding, and his own natural arrogance asserted 
 itself. He was leading the chase ; the language which one 
 or two real Irishmen had used when he had bumped them 
 was mere nasty jealousy. He was close to the fleeting 
 dogs ; and if Susannah could but see him. 
 
 “ Wire, you fool ! ” yelled Standish. 
 
 “Oh, let him into it; it might catch him,” said Knox 
 Harding wildly. 
 
 “ You might remember that Sandy would be shut up for 
 a week for the funeral,” said Standish mildly. “ He’s over 
 it, anyway.” 
 
278 
 
 SANDY M/RR1ED 
 
 “ Why be frightened at that fence? ” gasped Hildebrand 
 pompously over his shoulder to Standish. 
 
 Araminta’s experience on the grey mare had been of 
 quite another variety. That amicable animal had ambled 
 blandly when other horses galloped, and had lunched blandly 
 off the first bank they met, absolutely declining to jump it. 
 Ambition was not in her. She suffered blows gladly ; the 
 spirit of a good martyr appeared to dwell in her grey body. 
 After ten minutes Araminta retired to the road, along 
 which she cantered sulkily, watching the hunt recede. 
 When Mollie turned the pony up the narrow lane she 
 followed her, vainly urging her treasure to make haste. 
 
 “ I will change her for something else, 1 ” groaned Araminta 
 bitterly. “ I will. Oh, will no one make her go ? ” she 
 said, for the grey mare, seeing grass, went stubbornly on 
 past the gate and commenced a fresh meal. 
 
 Friendly men rushed to the rescue. “’Tis hearses that 
 one sh’ud be pullin’,” said Marty, hoping now for the 
 shilling which Hildebrand had disappointed him in. 
 “ That’s Casey’s grey. Hearses ; an’ she would not even 
 come home cheerful from the grave ! There were hearts 
 broke with her before ye to git her, miss.” 
 
 “ She will not proceed,” said Araminta. 
 
 “If ye sot her abuv on a shlab for a statie an’ give her a 
 feed she’d rest there for ever,” observed Marty sympathetic- 
 ally. “ Laws, terrible hot I am now, miss — terrible ! ” 
 
 Araminta extracted sixpence unwillingly. A hail of 
 blows had urged the grey to her amble, and she lumbered 
 up the field. 
 
 Hounds meantime had swung right and then left, 
 driving ahead steadily. Deep going had told upon fat 
 horses ; they were labouring now as they breasted the hill. 
 The turn had left Hildebrand a little behind, and the 
 hill brought the bay to complete reason. The hounds 
 swung back again just in front of Hildebrand ; Perfection’s 
 ears were back and he had reached the stage of wishing to 
 stop. . . . The cub, greatly bustled, had turned sharp out- 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 279 
 
 side a wired fence ; outside sheep foiled the line, and 
 hounds threw up their heads for the first time. Some one 
 hollered ahead beyond the sheep. 
 
 They were close to a road. Two or three of the motors 
 had reached it, and Miss Grimes and Dermot came flying 
 across the field, just as the tubby pony, blown but still 
 eager, dashed up at the other side. 
 
 “ There is a ditch here,” said Mollie. 
 
 “ It is flat/’ said Mr. Grimes, smacking the pony. 
 
 “ Oh, papa! delightful,” said Susannah. “Oh, look 
 at papa.” 
 
 She had to hold Dermot’s arm as she watched. Mrs. 
 Butler, standing upright in her car, also beheld the 
 amazing spectacle of an elderly, blameless gentleman, 
 taking a shallow trench in a governess-car, with a lurch 
 which sent him down upon his knees and lost him his hat, 
 and of her eldest son and Miss Grimes waltzing with joy 
 on the wired bank. 
 
 “ Miss Knox ! ” said Mrs. Butler, “ would corrupt 
 any one,” 
 
 “ They are in — they are over. They’re upset,” shrieked 
 Susannah. “ Oh, hurrah ! papa, hurrah ! ” Susannah 
 stopped where she was to watch, and Dermot ran on. 
 
 “ I had to see it,” said Mr. Grimes, “ I would see it. 
 Oh, good heavens. Hildebrand Hannyside.” 
 
 Dermot had a knife with nippers. He wrestled with 
 the barbed wire, and had cleared a gap as the hunt swept 
 up. It was the only possible place for half a mile; the 
 rest of the bank was overgrown with brambles ; thick with 
 stakes, and faced by a cleared-out ditch of almost impossible 
 width. Dermot had found the one soft place and waved 
 wildly. 
 
 Hildebrand, left behind, began to drive on the now 
 sulky runaway. Young Hannyside had spied Miss 
 Grimes’s hat ; he wished above all things to be first in the 
 chase. Great thoughts spun in his brain. She should see 
 him thus, ahead of all others, leading this mad and 
 
280 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 foolish pursuit of a fox. He cut across the field with the 
 bay shutting up at every stride. 
 
 “ They’re checked,” said Dermot loudly to his com- 
 panion as Hildebrand galloped up to the fence. 
 
 “ Let me come, please ,” cried a voice strained by re- 
 pression, from behind. 
 
 Hildebrand merely said go on to his horse. He had 
 seen the Master, and was extremely proud of getting to 
 the gap, which Dermot Butler had made just in front of 
 Knox Harding. The Master's horse, in fact, pulled up 
 sharply when his rider saw with astonishment that the 
 plump youth did not mean to wait for him, brushed 
 Perfection’s quarters. 
 
 “ I’m first,” said Hildebrand, to the bright-hatted 
 Miss Grimes, and as he cried it misfortune fell. 
 
 Perfection’s hour of folding up was upon him. He did 
 it accurately, straight across the wide ditch. He laid his 
 head upon the far bank with his pig’s eyes blinking evilly, 
 and Mr. Costello wrenched his black’s head sharply 
 round. 
 
 <f For the sorra a ha’porth but fire will lift him now,” 
 he said, as he cantered towards home. 
 
 Hildebrand, coming slack reined and confidently at the 
 gap in the fence, had fallen into the muddy water. Per- 
 fection lay upon one of his legs, and Hildebrand’s round 
 face was close to the horse’s on the thorny bank. 
 
 The horrible part of it was, that instead of the sympathy 
 he expected, a hail of abuse spattered and pattered down 
 on him. Had he not seen hounds check? Why the 
 something — something would he not wait for the Master ? 
 
 A variety of whips smote Perfection, who merely sank 
 into the mud without making an effort to rise. 
 
 Young Mr. Hannyside, clutching brambles, shrieked 
 forth that he would drown. 
 
 “ You might, the tide is rising,” said Standish gloomily. 
 “ Oh, rash, intruding fool, farewell,” quoted Mr. Blundell 
 equably. “ And there isn’t a place for us for half a mile.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 281 
 
 Looking up, Hildebrand was aware that Miss Susannah 
 Grimes was on the bank above him, and that she was not 
 weeping. Looking round with a wrench of eyeballs he 
 saw Mr. Grimes, hatless, standing in a governess-car, and 
 strange, the bitterness of complete failure fell upon Hilde- 
 brand more coldly than the slime and water. 
 
 People fished at him with whip handles, soothing voices 
 told him he was quite safe if the horse didn’t roll, and a 
 variety of country people came hurrying to the rescue. 
 
 Derick Knox Harding raged up the bank until Mollie 
 raised her voice from the cart. 
 
 “ Make a bridge of him,” she said. “ He’s quite quiet. 
 Walk over. Get to the hounds.” 
 
 “ By Jingo,” said Derick, jumping off. 
 
 From his muddy bed, Hildebrand beheld the Master’s 
 boots balancing themselves upon Perfection’s side and 
 back, one heel crunched lightly on Hildebrand’s arm, and 
 then on the bank ; he saw Susannah Grimes, prostrate with 
 unseemly laughter. 
 
 “ Oh, dee — dee — oh, delightful!” gasped Miss Grimes. 
 “ Oh, the fox ran into a hole up there. I saw him do it.” 
 
 “ Is it?” said a deep voice. “His usual failing. Is 
 Mr. Hannyside incapable of being moved ? I have come 
 to fetch you, Miss Grimes, from such a scene.” 
 
 Strong hands were extracting Hildebrand from the mud, 
 which released him with a reluctant “ gloop,” and soaked, 
 smeared, raging, he climbed the bank. He staggered 
 reproachfully to Susannah. 
 
 “You saw me coming up first,” he began, “ first at the 
 dreadful fence.” 
 
 “ She only saw you in the ditch,” said Sandy cruelly. 
 “ And they told you hounds had checked. There’s an 
 etiquette in hunting, Hildebrand. That’s right, boys — 
 that’ll do it.” Helpers with armfuls of straw were rushing 
 down. • 
 
 “ For ’tisn’t tirened, he is but play-actin’,” said Patsy, 
 
 “ an’ ’tisn’t his first offence ayther, the dirty trickster.” 
 
282 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ My God,” stormed Hildebrand, “ are you going to 
 sacrifice my horse, my poor exhausted horse ? ” 
 
 He was dazed by his fall. Some wild idea of oblation 
 offered to false gods that a fox might be killed eddied in 
 his muddled brain, and he stood panting, too muddy to 
 hurry to the rescue. 
 
 “ Are you not even Christians?” roared Hildebrand. 
 “ Mr. Grimes. Mr. Grimes — Help ! ” 
 
 “ Oh, burn the brute if it lets the hunt go on,” said Mr. 
 Grimes callously. “ Nasty aquatic animal.” 
 
 “There now!” cried Marty. “Mind the saddle let ye 
 there, me boys.” 
 
 Perfection plunged hurriedly to his feet, kicking accu- 
 rately at Mr. Grimes, who leapt for safety with something 
 which was not a prayer on his lips. 
 
 Hounds were clamouring round a hole in the fence ; the 
 hunt was over. 
 
 “ I think Hildebrand was very obliging,” said Ara- 
 minta, who had only caught glimpses of the accident, “ to 
 put his horse flat like that for a bridge for Mr. Knox 
 Harding.” 
 
 When, muddy and wrathful and poorer by several 
 shillings, Hildebrand was getting back to the road, Derick 
 Knox Harding came up beside him. His face wore a 
 restrained expression and his voice made chill efforts 
 towards kindness. He was accompanied by Sandy and 
 a short thin man on a wiry grey. 
 
 “You had better,” said Derick, “ get rid of that brute. 
 You very nearly did real harm with him to-day.” 
 
 “ The water,” said Hildebrand tragically, “ was almost to 
 my lips.” 
 
 “You nearly killed Pansy,” said Derick absently, “ and 
 oh, of course there was yourself too, but here’s a man who 
 knows the brute. Here, Mr. Hennessy.” 
 
 “ There was min that could ride tried him lasht year,” 
 said Hennessy, “ an he besthted thim ?11. He broke the 
 leg of one, and he was sowlt for a song. They tried 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 283 
 
 him to race in Point to Points and he led down an’ he 
 tirened.” 
 
 “ I should say,” said Hildebrand, “ he will now take 
 a law action against the man he purchased the beast 
 from.” 
 
 To which Mr. Hennessy returned ‘‘action me aunt” with 
 pointed meaning. “ That’s what he’s lookin’ afther,” said 
 Hennessy with emphasis. “ If ye have no shares in Me 
 Sweeney’s sell that horse quick,” said Hennessy, falling 
 back. 
 
 “You’d really better, Hildebrand,” urged Sandy. “They 
 want a horse for the bus at the Royal Edward. They 
 might chance him and his limper. You really might hurt 
 some one with him.” 
 
 “Hurt — some one,” burst out Hildebrand. “ Some one . 
 Who ? ” he questioned, as he reached the road — and saw 
 Miss Grimes, still giggling, jump into the Butler motor. 
 
 “ Who is McSweeney, that he should influence my selling 
 of this brutal horse ? ” 
 
 “ They’re the undertakers in Cahervalley,” said Sandy 
 mildly. 
 
 Hildebrand rode home on Phillips’s cob — he was weary 
 of Ireland and of hunting. He gritted his teeth as he 
 looked at the stables behind Castleknock. 
 
 “But I dare not go,” muttered Hildebrand sullenly, “to 
 leave them to do as they choose.” 
 
 Mollie Knox was curiously thoughtful at dinner. She 
 smiled vaguely when Sandy told her that she had made a 
 sportsman of Mr. Grimes. 
 
 “ He’s so kind and such a good sort,” said Mollie 
 dolefully. 
 
 “Why,” said Nora, “should these estimable traits make 
 your eyes so heavy, Mollie ? ” 
 
 “ Oh well, just because— he is,” said Mollie. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 O villain, villain, smiling. — Ha7nlet. 
 
 But if thou neecTst but hunt be ruled by me. 
 
 — Venus and Adonis. 
 
 S USANNAH GRIMES announced, with an unwonted 
 flow of eloquence, that the only thing she really 
 wanted to do on earth was to hunt. 
 
 “ Not,” said Susannah, waving her hands, “ to sit 
 crookedly on a saddle as Miss Mellicombe does, but to 
 ride across those lovely splashy fields, and jump those 
 brambly, delightful fences, and sit straight and square, 
 with a kind of mad glow on your face, as those first people 
 had on theirs, coming up yesterday.” 
 
 “ Knox Harding,” observed Dennis, thoughtfully, “ was 
 full of glow just then.” 
 
 Susannah giggled. “ That was when Hildebrand 
 Hannyside,” she said, “ lay in the ditch. In the funny 
 clothes which he must have bought secondhand.” 
 
 Dermot shuddered, and said it was worse than that. 
 “ They were made by a person in the village,” said Dermot. 
 “ In the village, by a person called Keefe.” 
 
 “ Oh, delightful,” said Susannah. 
 
 Susannah made up by good humour what she lacked in 
 conversation. She could tramp for miles without growing 
 tired ; she never caught cold. 
 
 Dermot looked at her now with the questioning expres- 
 sion she seemed to create in his eyes. 
 
 “ And — I do think Miss Knox is lovely,” said Susannah. 
 “If she only had some of that old man’s money now.” 
 Dennis Butler grew suddenly interested in the prospect 
 from the windows. Dermot sighed and looked into the 
 glass. Miss Grimes looked exceedingly shrewd, and smiled 
 pleasantly. 
 
 284 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 285 
 
 “You’ve known Hannyside for years, haven’t you?” 
 asked Dermot. 
 
 Susannah’s nod was a short one ; she smiled to her- 
 self. 
 
 “ He will be very rich,” said Dermot. 
 
 Miss Grimes nodded again. Then she remarked that 
 riches were wasted on some people, and she said it would 
 soon be time to start. 
 
 Dermot was radiant in spotless pink, and there was a 
 meet close by. 
 
 “ And you, Dennis ? ” said his stepmother. 
 
 Dennis was not going out, he said. Mr. Grimes, fidgeting 
 on the doorstep, said that he was looking forward to a 
 drive with Miss Knox ; and Dennis hurried to the yard at 
 something resembling a run. 
 
 The tubby pony was starting at a light-hearted gallop 
 from Castleknock when Dennis rode up there, leading a 
 horse beside him, but Miss Brown, in a tight brown hat, 
 was driving him to-day. 
 
 Mollie was out on the lawn, disconsolately kicking at 
 yellow leaves. Hildebrand and Araminta had gone in a 
 motor ; she would not drive with them. 
 
 Her greeting to Dennis Butler was a chill inquiry as to 
 why he wanted two horses to ride at one hunt ; followed 
 by the suggestion that she supposed he wished to exercise 
 them thoroughly before he started for England. 
 
 When Dennis explained that he was not going to hunt 
 at all, and had come to take Mollie for a gentle ride, she 
 grew colder still in manner, but she had to turn away to 
 hide her face. 
 
 Twenty minutes later she was on the back of Dennis’s 
 best hunter, cantering across the leaf-strewn lawn. 
 
 “ I won’t hunt,” Mollie said, “ because if I began I should 
 never stop.” 
 
 Mollie never hinted that she hoped anything from the 
 unopened letter in Sandy’s hands. She stayed to please 
 the little man until it was opened, but she felt sure it was 
 
286 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 only full of directions concerning the racehorses, or some 
 fresh torment for Araminta and Hildebrand. 
 
 Dennis watched the slender figure ; Mollie was a born 
 horsewoman. Then he asked, a little hopelessly, if people 
 could live on debts and an allowance which was always 
 anticipated. 
 
 Mollie said No, with some decision. She looked at 
 Dennis critically. “ After Christmas,” she said; “you go, 
 then, don’t you ? ” 
 
 Dennis replied dully that his stepmother said so, and 
 rode closer to Mollie. 
 
 “ You think then a poor man ought to try to marry an 
 heiress ? ” he asked. 
 
 Mollie said “ Certainly,” in a voice which would not keep 
 quite steady. 
 
 “ Think of all the hunters,” she said, “ and all that, and 
 the pretty hands you admire.” 
 
 Dennis replied that he often thought of those, and 
 Miss Knox suggested, after a pause, that she had ridden 
 far enough. 
 
 “ But if you think I ought to,” said Dennis, ignoring 
 this, “ marry an heiress : I might try here — there’s Ara- 
 minta.” 
 
 At this suggestion Mollie’s gloomy expression relaxed 
 suddenly ; she told Dennis that he was a fool, and asked 
 him where he was taking her to. 
 
 For they had come across fields and through gates until 
 Droveen was left a long way behind them. 
 
 “Hssh!” said Dennis suddenly. “ Hssh ! All right. 
 Tom, we won’t stir.” 
 
 They had ridden into a little larch wood, a narrow path 
 winding under the cone-fringed branches. Just beyond 
 was a thick patch of gorse, and Mollie saw a spot of pink 
 standing close by a tangled hedge of thorn. 
 
 “ Hssh ! ” said Dennis again. “ Now look out here.” 
 
 “The — hunt!” gasped Mollie. “You brought me on 
 purpose.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 287 
 
 The Field could be seen through a gap in the hedge. 
 The group of people waiting, some eagerly, with eyes on 
 the covert, some carelessly chattering, with their backs 
 turned, some disguising the hopes they cherished for a 
 blank draw, for the fences round Rockstown wanted doing. 
 
 Mollie could see the Master waiting for the first 
 whimper ; Sandy on Blackbird’s daughter ; Nora sitting 
 as straight and easily as if the years had forgotten her; the 
 murmuring of voices rang across the covert. 
 
 A stout figure poised upon a bank wore a disconsolate 
 air of search as it walked along. 
 
 “ It’s Mr. Grimes,” said Mollie. “ I said I would be out 
 in the trap. If he only wasn’t so kind and nice.” 
 
 “ They’ve found !” hissed Tom, the second whip. “Don’t 
 you move, Mr. Dennis.” 
 
 Rollicker threw the long note which tells the tale of 
 fox ; the gorse crackled as the pack crashed to him. 
 Dragon and Sunlight confirmed it ; the gorse echoed to a 
 burst of music. 
 
 Dogs barking on the trail, no more, yet is there anything 
 quite like it on earth ? All round the quiet country, the 
 good hunter beneath us shivering with excitement, and 
 that crash of musical tongues stirring our hearts so curi- 
 ously. All over it the sense of anticipation and uncertainty, 
 the fears of a bad start, the hopes of a gallop. The tense 
 strain, with reins taken up, with hat crammed down, with 
 memories of past runs rioting in our minds. Close to us 
 now a startled blackbird flies up, marking where our fox 
 has passed. Dan’s cap up ! He has viewed him. 
 
 They ran fourteen miles from Rockstown once, straight 
 away to Garrysheen, that distant hill, where a stout fox 
 saved his life in the untopped wood. The best country 
 in all Cahervalley lies round ; sound, big banks, where fifty 
 horses could jump abreast; grass land which is holding in 
 wet weather. 
 
 “There he is,” breathed Dennis. “ Don’t speak! Don’t! 
 We’ll be in hot water ! ” 
 
288 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 A big old fox loped up on to the overgrown fence round the 
 cover, pausing, then listening to the crash of tongues behind 
 him. Then, quite quietly, he hopped down into the larch 
 wood, slipping off at the fox gallop, which distances the 
 fastest hound for a time. 
 
 Mollie opened her mouth to shriek, and closed it to 
 think of biting speech, as Dennis suddenly clapped his 
 hand on it. 
 
 u Grr ! Grr ! You — ” gurgled Mollie, behind the gay 
 dogskin glove. “ Grr ! How dare ” 
 
 Tom’s shrill shriek rent the air. The sudden thudding 
 of hoofs rose in almost instant answer ; the field had some 
 distance to gallop round. 
 
 “Forrard! Away, away, away!” The clear jubilation 
 of it, shrilling out among the fringe of branches, echoing 
 to the ears of the old fox who had hoped he had slipped 
 off unseen. 
 
 “ Quiet,” said Dennis again. “ We can’t hurt him. Don’t 
 you utter, Mollie.” 
 
 Jumble of yap and yowl closer and closer to them. A 
 lean, wistful head raised suddenly over the stony fence ; 
 another and another. Crackle of parting gorse bushes, 
 light rolling of stones as the dog pack burst out, a great 
 mass of white and tan and black, for a minute blotting out 
 the dark fence, then out into the wood. A second’s pause, 
 and Ransom has it, then Sunlight, and away with a 
 swiftness which tells of a holding scent. 
 
 “Now, out of the wood, carefully!” said Dennis. 
 “ Mollie, we’ve got a start this time.” 
 
 Mollie forgot to say she would not hunt, and that her 
 name was Knox. The large boughs whipped and slashed 
 at them as they clattered down the narrow path. A big 
 boundary fence, bramble grown, rotten, faced the wood. 
 
 “ Oogh ! ” said Tom, placidly, as he put his chestnut 
 at it. 
 
 “ We shall fall in,” observed Mollie, with some firmness, 
 “ but, oh, come on, and get out again.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 289 
 
 Dennis’s brown faced the fence with the ardour of youth. 
 Taking off too soon, he landed with a scramble, and shot 
 out across the far ditch with another. But Mollie knew 
 the perfectly timed jump of a perfect hunter. 
 
 With his hocks well under him, Gameboy gathered him- 
 self together, sprang cleanly across the wide trench, paused 
 to look down, and swung out again, feet beyond the gleam 
 of muddy water so far beneath. 
 
 Mollie shrieked in her excitement. Hounds were racing 
 up the field, running almost silently now. 
 
 “ We could have gone round,” said Dennis, “ to a gate, 
 but we’re over now, and if they don’t check, we’re in luck,” 
 he added, pulling away to the left of the pack. 
 
 Mollie rode in Dennis’s tracks with sublime trust. Some- 
 times she thought the joy of it all was so keen it almost 
 hurt ; the wind sweeping in her face ; Gameboy’s easy, 
 lengthy stride ; his perfect fencing. The slight quickening 
 of his pace as he swung into a field ; his almost imper- 
 ceptible pause ; his light, accurate springs on and off ; his 
 long fly across a wall ; his buck over timber. 
 
 Beside them, hounds, driving steadily without the 
 semblance of a check, until sheep circling on sour, marshy 
 ground brought them for a moment to their noses. 
 
 Then, looking back, the three lucky people could see the 
 bobbing hats, and pink and black coats of the field which 
 had missed the start. 
 
 Two or three almost caught them at the check, but 
 before they could come up hounds were flying on, pouring 
 over the great banks, throwing their tongues as they 
 started again, racing grimly for blood. 
 
 The bitterness of the chase, which has for its guide the 
 top hats of the lucky leaders, was" forced upon good men 
 to-day. That horror of endless galloping, of watching 
 those few people whom we positively hate, rise and fall 
 and disappear at the fences ; the hope of a turn, the 
 prayers for a cheek, and then see if we’ll be left again. 
 The sudden, wrathful pulling out, determined to try to cut 
 *9 
 
290 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 off a corner ; the bitter recognizing of its complete disaster ; 
 the pound-pound of horses behind us ; the slovenly jumping 
 under us of a horse who is perfect when he can see hounds, 
 but resents this aimless pursuit. 
 
 It is the nightmare of hunting, yet we hold on because 
 the check may come ; the turn may be taken, and we 
 shall gallop on to them to be greeted by the smiling faces 
 of the few whom luck has adopted for the day. 
 
 No use trying to look as if you’d dropped in from right 
 or left ; they are too kindly-hearted and sympathetic to 
 permit that. 
 
 “ Pity you missed that, old chap. Best thing weVe had 
 this year. By Jove! it was a snorter! Bad start at the 
 road, I suppose. They’ll go on ? Oh, of course, but it’s 
 practically over now. There’s Droveen just in front, if he 
 ever gets there.” 
 
 In the biting wrath which eats us up we have space for 
 wrath more bitter still, directed against those who ride the 
 tail chase, one upon each other’s heels, in happy content- 
 ment ; who lollop up when the fox is dead or to ground, 
 and who beam at you until the desire for murder is born. 
 
 “ Wasn’t that a lovely hunt? How well your horse 
 went. I was close behind you for a long time.” 
 
 The sarcasm of the flung out : “ Never saw a hound 
 from start to finish,” is completely wasted. There are 
 fortunate people who do not ride to see hounds. And 
 then with bitterness dying we remember that Redshanks, 
 best of horses, awaits us at Ballinasloe, and swear that 
 barbed wire itself shall not lose us another start. 
 
 As Mollie, Dennis, and Tom galloped on easily, the 
 Cahervalley hunt rode one of these nightmare-like chases 
 behind them. 
 
 “ How did they get away ? Who are they ? ” was flung 
 out wrathfully. 
 
 “ It looks like Dennis Butler.” 
 
 Knox Harding, on a thoroughbred, got up to them 
 first, and grinned as he saw Dennis. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 291 
 
 A line of gaps led across some big holding fields, then 
 the ground fell sharply to a flooded river, swirling brown 
 and wrathful between its banks. 
 
 Countrymen cheered them on ; their fox, dead tired, was 
 close in front. 
 
 “ The tail dhroopin on him,” shrieked an encourag- 
 ing voice. “ An’ he thrailin’ the legs with the dinth of 
 tire.” 
 
 Tom viewed him suddenly, just across the river, 
 scrambling dejectedly along a bank. Hounds flung into 
 the muddy, swirling current, and Dennis hovered on the 
 edge, but the other side was steep and honey-combed, 
 with a glisten of wire across the only possible landing- 
 place. 
 
 Dennis turned and galloped back ; he knew there was a 
 ford higher up. 
 
 Men on blown horses struggling up, pulled up gladly. 
 It was all over. Tom had viewed him dead-beat, just 
 across the river. 
 
 Dennis pounded for the ford ; beaten foxes have a way 
 of travelling on. He plunged on to a road, Mollie on his 
 heels, to see hounds streaming across the next field. 
 
 “ It is a new one,” shrieked a farmer from a trap. “ He 
 is off like a motor-car. I seen him cross out.” 
 
 “ And we still have it to ourselves,” grinned Dennis, 
 with the selfish joy of a fox hunter. 
 
 Not quite ! Tom had plunged somehow across the 
 river, and was with them still. The Master was close up. 
 They ran for four miles across a perfect country, lighter 
 going than in the beginning, and smaller fencing. 
 
 The black five-year-old had proved himself a treasure ; 
 he had not put a foot astray ; he was galloping on with his 
 long even stride, lathered a little, but going as freely as 
 when he had left Rockstown. 
 
 There was pride in Mollie’s heart coupled with her joy ; 
 pride for the man in front going so fearlessly, finding the 
 best places as if by instinct, but taking them all without a 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 292 
 
 thought of tear. And always with a slight turn of his head 
 as she landed, a look to see if she was safe. 
 
 He was taking care of her. Mollie was tasting the 
 keenest happiness she had ever known ; and its twin sister 
 pain must gallop by its side. 
 
 A humping tangle of green hills rose in front, scarred 
 by jutting crags ; with a dark mass of trees spreading to 
 them. 
 
 “ Castle levers,” said Dennis. “ We'll lose him here. 
 It’s open.” 
 
 Five minutes later they pulled up on the lawn, watching 
 hounds shrieking out their disappointment round an un- 
 stopped hole. 
 
 “ Two foxes,” said Knox Harding, “ and the best gallop 
 we've had this year. Dennis, I’ll buy your black horse.” 
 
 “ Not just yet,” said Dennis quietly. “ I may want 
 him.” 
 
 The keen glow of the perfect gallop faded to a sadder 
 sense of weariness. Even with its memory tingling in 
 every nerve, it was human nature not to be satisfied. 
 
 Dennis Butler must marry money ; the chance was 
 his. 
 
 Mollie wanted the right to ride again, not once, but 
 many times ; to follow her pilot over the best country in 
 the world ; to know that she could hunt as she liked. 
 And more, when the day was over. She looked up at 
 Dennis, tears smarting in her eyes. She was no one — a 
 poor little dependent on the bounty of the Mellicombe 
 cousins ; a girl who must toil for the right to live. 
 
 “ Well,” said Dennis cheerily, riding up to her, “ how did 
 you like it ? ” 
 
 “It was the most perfect thing I have ever known, and I 
 wish I had never come out,” said Mollie. 
 
 Dennis stroked his chin softly, feeling that feminine 
 logic was beyond him. 
 
 “ Now for squalls,” he said nervously. 
 
 For his stepmother, with displeasure stamped upon her 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 293 
 
 plump face, was hurrying down across the lawn. Having 
 lost the hounds, she had driven on to lunch with her friend 
 Mrs. levers, who was staying with her son, and, hearing 
 hounds, they had come out. 
 
 Before this, over an excellent luncheon, Mrs. Butler had 
 aired severe views concerning Mollie. 
 
 “ An improvident little person, who does not know her 
 position in life,” she snorted. “ Actually endeavoured to 
 attract my Dermot, my dear. But, of course, he saw 
 through her.” 
 
 Miss Grimes took a second cutlet, but did not eat it. 
 
 Mr. Grimes had gone off with Miss Brown in the pony 
 trap. He had not looked happy all day. 
 
 “Of course old Mr. Hannyside FOUND OUT some- 
 thing,” said Mrs. Butler emphatically, “ and left the girl 
 nothing.” 
 
 “ But if,” said Susannah, who had talked to Mr. Allen- 
 
 bury, and knew something of the will, “ but if ” then 
 
 she began to eat her cutlet hurriedly. 
 
 “ If what, Miss Grimes?” inquired her hostess. 
 
 “ Oh nothing,” said Susannah, “ nothing at all. The 
 hounds ! Oh, delightful ! ” she screamed, and hurled herself 
 at the fastenings of the French windows. 
 
 Mrs. levers inquired if there was money there, as Miss 
 Grimes rushed down the terrace, and Mrs. Butler replied 
 tartly that it was a mere passing friendship, and not to be 
 considered — the girl was to marry Hildebrand. 
 
 “It is the hounds,” she added. They were coming, 
 fleeting over the green of the park close to the fox. 
 
 “And only four people near them,” cried Mrs. levers. 
 “ See, they are jumping in. One of them is Dennis — I 
 know his seat.” 
 
 “ And one ” Mrs. Butler bustled down the avenue, 
 
 “ one— oh, good heavens ! one is that insufferable Miss 
 Knox, daring to come out hunting ! ” 
 
 She bustled down towards the hounds. Mollie, spying 
 Mrs. Butler, brightened mischievously. She listened to 
 
294 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 the sonorous call of “ Miss Knox,” twice, before she 
 answered. 
 
 “ Miss Knox,” said Mrs. Butler, “ I am surprised to 
 observe you upon my son’s horse — I am surprised.” 
 
 “So was I,” said Mollie meekly ; “ we met the hounds — 
 by chance. And, oh, it was glorious ! ” 
 
 Mrs. Butler said acidly that the cultivation of a taste 
 which one had no right to enjoy, was the most foolish thing 
 on earth. 
 
 The lawn was full of people now. People who had 
 ridden a hard tail hunt and people who had soberly 
 shortcutted or hammered roads, all seemed to arrive 
 together. 
 
 Dennis was discreetly vague as to his start. He looked 
 warningly at Tom, and said he had just happened to get 
 away. No; he hadn’t gone round the wood. 
 
 “Because you were waiting in it,” observed Standish in 
 thunderous undertone. “ If you were caught, Dennis, it 
 would serve you right.” 
 
 “ Only we weren’t,” said Dennis gently, “ not for eight 
 miles.” 
 
 Standish grunted. 
 
 Miss Grimes, spying Hildebrand, who was arrayed in 
 mourning hues, tempered by white spats and lemon gloves, 
 greeted him with a giggle, and said she saw that he had 
 given up hunting. 
 
 “No wonder, on that thing with the open mouth,” 
 said Susannah sympathetically. “ He just wagged you 
 everywhere all over his body. You don’t really like it, 
 either, do you ? ” she added. “ One doesn’t when one 
 can’t manage things. I know, because a donkey kicked 
 me off once.” 
 
 Hildebrand, having answered loftily that he had not given 
 up hunting, stood sulkily aside. He felt determined to 
 show Susannah before she left that he could ride, and look 
 well on a horse, even if he had to hire one. 
 
 As he leant against the palings watching the people 
 
SANDY MARRIED 295 
 
 go up to be fed and otherwise refreshed, a genial voice 
 aroused him. 
 
 “ That was a terrible time you had out on Monday,” it 
 said. “ By gum ! but you were a wonder to stick it.” 
 
 Hildebrand looked up to see Mr. Fitzy Gehogan smiling 
 down at him. Fitzy was a large youth with somewhat 
 bloodshot eyes, an impressive brogue, and an expansive 
 smile. His hunting outfit made up in cut what it lacked 
 in expense. No one else’s breeches were so tight at the 
 knees ; no one else’s coat so long in the tails. Mr. Gehogan 
 smoked Hollybush cigarettes, and generally managed to 
 lunch at several motor-cars. He was so obliging about 
 luncheon time as to holding any one’s horse, or helping 
 to bring up the second mounts, or coming down to tell 
 people what the next draw would be. 
 
 Unkind people in the county called him Spongy 
 Gehogan. 
 
 Hildebrand, knowing nothing of these peculiarities, laid 
 the flattering salve to his smarting self-esteem, and replied 
 that his horse had been very restive indeed on Monday. 
 
 Fitzy returned : “ Restive, is it ? ” with a positive groan. 
 “The biggest thief in all Ireland,” he said, “and to stick 
 him into a stranger was a disgrace. If ’twas one that was 
 no horseman now, Hannyside, where was he on him ? ” 
 
 One of Fitzy’s characteristics was a constant use of 
 people’s names, used with a friendly emphasis. 
 
 “ Where was he ? ” said Fitzy. “ That’s the way with a 
 rotten little dealer felly ; he doesn’t care. If you buy from 
 a gentleman, he has his reputation to think of, Hannyside. 
 I declare to goodness I was never sorrier. A great sports- 
 man like yourself, that we should be proud to have here, 
 run away with.” 
 
 Hildebrand felt that Fitzy Gehogan’s smile was a thing 
 of warmth. He was really appreciated at last. 
 
 “ Some of us should try to make it up to you. I declare 
 we should,” declaimed Fitzy. “Yes, they’re moving off; 
 but my horse is tired. He carried me grand that hunt. 
 
296 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Now, I tell you, Hannyside, if I could help, if I could do a 
 swop now and get rid of that runaway brute for you, I’d 
 be gladly at a loss to oblige a good fellow. Come over 
 to the Castle,” said Fitzy lightly ; “ come to-morrow, and 
 eat a bit of lunch. The girls will be delighted.” 
 
 Hildebrand got into the motor-car with a smile. He 
 was driven back to take tea at the Butlers', where he spoke 
 quite seriously to Susannah about hunting, and told her 
 that he was lunching with friends next day, and about 
 to buy another horse to hunt on. 
 
 Susannah murmured, “ Oh, delightful !” absently. 
 
 Hildebrand asked Phillips for his cob next day, and he 
 inquired his route from Sandy. 
 
 “ Ballinrobe Castle,” said Sandy, directing him. “ What’s 
 taking you over there, Hildebrand ? ” 
 
 Hildebrand looked sphinx-like. 
 
 “ They are half-sir kind of people,” said Nora carelessly. 
 “ And Fitzy has a ready tongue. He’s going to buy a 
 horse,” she added, as Hildebrand rode away. 
 
 “ If he’s going to buy a horse from Fitzy, he’ll match 
 him,” said Sandy, grinning. “ Get him vetted ! ” he yelled. 
 “If it’s a horse, get him vetted, Hildebrand, and have a 
 trial ! ” 
 
 “ Let him alone,” said Nora unkindly. “ He won’t let us 
 help him. Fitzy will flatter him into anything.” 
 
 “ What, I wonder, is a half-sir,” considered Hildebrand 
 as he rode on. 
 
 Hildebrand thought later that Ballinrobe Castle looked 
 rather dilapidated. It was merely an everyday Irish home, 
 tall and inornate, with high steps leading up to the hall 
 door, and kitchen windows blinking up from cavernous 
 depths. 
 
 Hildebrand was greeted by Fitzy, who was watching 
 for him, and led into a large room full of miscellaneous 
 furniture, where a window might have been opened some 
 months before. A tinge of stale dust and cigarette smoke 
 clung to the used-up air. Miss Violet Gehogan, who was 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 297 
 
 going to be married, was looking at a book of patterns in 
 the window, and Miss Elbe, who was buxom and pleasant- 
 looking, was playing the piano loudly. 
 
 “ Knock a few of those boxes off the sofa, Elbe, and give 
 this man a corner,” said Fitzy. “ Nothing but parcels ? 
 Hannyside, and patterns, I declare, now. You’ve met my 
 sisters, haven’t you ? ” 
 
 Elbe, shaking her curly head, hoped to goodness there’d 
 be a bit to eat, for they’d only that minute heard there was 
 a guest. She had been preparing luncheon all the morning. 
 
 But, in company with her brother, she applied flattery 
 heavily but dexterously to Hildebrand’s willing mind. She 
 asked him about his great place in England, and listened 
 breathlessly to description. When there was a pause, she 
 pointed out a coat-of-arms hung on the wall, and supposed 
 that Hildebrand knew they were cousins of the Ballinrobes. 
 “ Fitzrobe is the family name,” she said, “ and there’s 
 a Lady Violet now.” 
 
 Elbe grew absent when Hildebrand branched oft to 
 Greater Bethel ; but even then she was deferential. 
 
 They sat long over a heavy meal of four varieties of 
 meats and three sweets, none of which quite arrived at 
 what they endeavoured to be. This, topped up by nuts and 
 oranges, stretched well into the afternoon, so that the light 
 was dim before they went to the stables. 
 
 The straggling yards were filled with a heterogeneous 
 equine collection. Fitzy had a “ bottle” for almost every 
 complaint on earth. He could boil down a doubtful tendon, 
 reduce curbs, cure broken knees, doctor “whistlers” as 
 cleverly as any small dealer. But Fitzy went in for 
 honesty, on the surface. 
 
 “ You can see the taste of a curb he has. I only bought 
 him a month ago, and I don’t think anything of it myself.’ , 
 This after three months’ assiduous work with the enlarge- 
 ment. “ Er — well — well, she is just a little thick there ; see 
 it for yourself. I wouldn’t say it’s worth putting a bandage 
 on her even— it’s so slight ; but I must point it out,” 
 
298 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 No one could say afterwards that Fitzy had deceived 
 them ; but they could not know either how many hours 
 had been spent before the tendon reached the stage of only 
 being slightly thickened. When, after a day or two’s hard 
 work without lotions and poultices, it bowed ominously, no 
 one was so distressed as the late owner. 
 
 He showed Hildebrand several hunters of varying merit; 
 he paused before one cocktailed black as if he wondered, 
 but he went on after a minute, remarking that he wasn’t 
 quite the class for a great rider. 
 
 “ But here,” said Fitzy, opening a door, “ pull off his rugs, 
 Marty.” 
 
 Miss Ellie, with a little rush and squeal, said she’d do it 
 herself. 
 
 “ Me an’ Top Hole being great friends,” she said, coquet- 
 tishly, “the greatest darling, Mr. Hannyside, and you 
 couldn’t knock him.” 
 
 Top Hole, a big bay, was certainly good-looking He 
 was a level, compact horse, with a lean, sensible head, per- 
 fectly set on ; with great sloping shoulders, and deep through 
 the heart. 
 
 “ There’s quality,” said Fitzy, “ there’s one won’t pull and 
 won’t fall, and I tell you, Hannyside, there he is, Top Hole 
 by Sheldrake, out of a three-quarter-bred mare ; and he’s 
 the best horse in Ireland.” 
 
 An engaging arm, clad in green tweed, was slipped 
 through Hildebrand’s. 
 
 “ I’d like to do you a turn, Hannyside,” said Fitzy, “after 
 the dirty way you were treated. It’s an honour to me, so it 
 is. Look here, now, I’ll take that runaway as a swop, with 
 a bit of boot. If I lose on it I’ll pick it up elsewhere. Give 
 me fifty and the horse, and between friends, it’s done. 
 There isn’t another, I tell you,” said Fitzy, “’d ask you that 
 price for Top Hole.” 
 
 Fifty pounds was a vast sum of gold. Yet the thought 
 of Monday before Susannah’s eyes outweighed it. Expe- 
 rience and Sandy’s parting shout induced caution. Hilde- 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 299 
 
 brand looked at the handsome bay and said he might do 
 it, but he must have a trial and a vet’s opinion. 
 
 “ Oh, then, a dozen vets,” said Fitzy heartily. “An* 
 more satifactory between pals. But for a trial now,” Mr. 
 Gehogan looked dubious. “ You see the way of it is, Miss 
 Graves is about him, and was to have Monday’s ride ; if 
 she saw another up, I might leave the country with what 
 
 she’d say about me. But ” a heaven-sent idea appeared 
 
 to flash before Fitzy’s mental eyes; he clapped Hildebrand 
 on the shoulder and made it palpable. 
 
 The local harriers met next day. He would send a 
 messenger for Mr. Hannyside’s clothes, or indeed, did he 
 want anything? Let him stay the night and ride Top 
 Hole next day. 
 
 “I couldn’t offer fairer,” said Fitzy genially, “and you 
 couldn’t be paining me be sayin’ no.” 
 
 Hildebrand admired the sedateness aired by Top Hole 
 in his jog down the yard. He hesitated, and accepted. 
 
 A long dinner, followed by music and giggle, made 
 young Hannyside positively radiant. These were the 
 people he could get on with. Cheery, affable, well- 
 connected, the expression “half-sir” had doubtless some- 
 thing to do with the baronet ancestor. Hildebrand forgot 
 himself so far as to squeeze Ellie’s waist during a romping 
 round game. 
 
 Fitzy, flushed from whisky-and-soda, followed by a red 
 liquid called port, beamed happily on Hildebrand. 
 Through genial deference he grew loving. He swore that 
 he knew a good fellow at sight, and that pals were scarce. 
 
 Tulla races took place on Saturday. They were going. 
 Why should not Hannyside come too? Stay on again and 
 make a day of it with them ? 
 
 “We’ll get a motor,” said Fitzy. “ It wouldn’t do for 
 a felly like you to drive out on a hired car. We’ll get a 
 motor from McSweeney’s.” 
 
 Hildebrand murmured that he had believed McSweeney 
 to be the undertakers. 
 
3 00 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ They keep motors too, to help them on,” observed 
 Violet’s fiance, who was noted for a sombre wit. 
 
 It was settled promptly. They would drive in early and 
 procure a car. They would lunch on the course, and come 
 home full of money. 
 
 “Myself an’ the girls an 5 Joey would have gone on the 
 train and driven out to the course,” said Fitzy, “ but it’s 
 different with you, Hannyside. And Magee will examine 
 your horse that same day, so that you’ll have him against 
 Monday’s meet.” 
 
 Hildebrand felt that this was the world to live in. He, 
 as the owner of the Northlap stud, was a person apart. 
 He must travel in motor-cars taken for him by admiring 
 friends. 
 
 Young Hannyside, sunflower-wise, turned his face to the 
 glow of adulation. He explained, during dinner, as he 
 drank indifferent soda water, that he was free as air should 
 he choose to drink, no temperance oath binding him. And 
 afterwards, in an atmosphere thick with tobacco smoke, he 
 actually accepted a glass of sloe gin from Miss Ellie, who 
 whispered coaxingly that ’twas for all the world like 
 their gran’ma’s, so old it had forgotten the mischief that 
 was in it. 
 
 Miss Violet was not eloquent. In fact, the only remark 
 she made to her guest during dinner was whether he’d 
 fancy rosy-pink or puce velveteen to travel in, and after 
 that she became immersed in thought. 
 
 “ Kindly, charming,” murmured Hildebrand, as he en- 
 deavoured to sleep upon a feather bed, to dream that Top 
 Hole was carrying him through the middle of the pack, 
 and in some mysterious manner dragging the hounds down 
 into a smothering mud-hole, in the midst of which he awoke 
 and succeeded in opening a window. 
 
 A mighty breakfast came in relays from the kitchen ; 
 chops and cold beef, a hot ham, some four pounds of bacon 
 and two dozen eggs being brought up sometimes by a 
 harassed- looking maid, and sometimes by men who 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 301 
 
 knocked coyly at the door to announce behind its shelter, 
 The ham, Miss Ellie. The eggs,” and then thrust a dish 
 into the room. 
 
 Hildebrand was driven to the meet. His desire to ride 
 there being put aside as quite impossible for one in his 
 'position of life. He joined a throng of men on young 
 horses, out to school them in pursuit of a pack of hounds 
 of varied sizes and breeds and tongues. The long yowl of 
 the harrier, the deerhound’s great bay, and the stirring 
 fox-hound note could be heard as they opened cheerfully 
 on a terrified goat. 
 
 Fitzy was whip. After he had conferred earnestly with 
 the Master, they moved off ; and Hildebrand found Top 
 Hole a charming mount. He was a little rough when he 
 jogged, but they only once got on to a road, and his 
 manners were perfect. He achieved his fences with great 
 care and precision ; propping carefully as he took off, 
 lowering himself cleverly to land — methods which delighted 
 Hildebrand. The horse galloped a little stiffly, the result, 
 Fitzy explained, of want of work. 
 
 The conversation between Henry Hennessy, the Master, 
 and Fitzy, might have given Hildebrand cause for thought, 
 but he did not hear it. It finished up with: “Ye’d sell 
 china eggs for hatchin’, Fitzy,” and a smack of the whip on 
 the Master’s boot. 
 
 Hildebrand circled in the pursuit of a fleeing hare 
 wrapped in delightful reverie. Miss Ellie had just told 
 him the horse matched him to pieces. Even in Danny 
 Keefe’s failure, he felt that he would now show Susannah 
 how he could ride. 
 
 Fitzy began to fear the rain about half-past two. He 
 said there were buckets of it in the sky, and he bustled 
 Hildebrand off Top Hole, and into the waiting dog-cart. 
 
 “ Walk him home, Cadogan,” he whispered to his groom, 
 “ and get the hose on the minnit you see the tap.” 
 
 Top Hole only awaited his certificate of soundness. 
 Hildebrand willingly stayed again at Castle Ballinrobe, 
 
302 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 though he politely asked for the removal of the feather- 
 bed. 
 
 “ It is terrible forgetful I am,” said Ellie repentantly ; 
 “ that was put on the bed for Aunt Mary, the time she 
 died here, an’ I forgot to put it out. She had a wish for 
 the feathers.” 
 
 The next November morning was softly grey ; no bite 
 of cold in the wind ; and they set forth for Cahervalley, 
 packed upon an outside car, with Fitzy perched upon the 
 box, endeavouring to keep a lumpy grey from running 
 into the carts on the road. 
 
 “ It’s all very well when they are to the left,” said Fitzy, 
 optimistically, “ but if you see a motor on the right it 
 might be as well to have the rug thrown off ready to 
 jump.” 
 
 Fortune and a severe whip bringing them to the town, 
 they pounded up the muddy street to the garage owned 
 by Mr. McSweeney. 
 
 The proprietor, summoned from next door, where he 
 attended to hearses, stroked his face dubiously and looked 
 at Fitzy without enthusiasm. “ Their best car was out, 
 and there was only the old one, with Sam at it now.” 
 
 A whispered conversation with Fitzy appeared to change 
 Mr. McSweeney’s views ; he relaxed visibly, roared orders 
 to the invisible Sam to bring out the old car on the 
 minnit, and to drive her himself. “ I’ll make him,” he 
 added, as a boom of remonstrance arose. 
 
 Mr. McSweeney then vanished, and a disreputable grey 
 motor, soured by the injustices of hiring out, threshed and 
 thrummed out backwards, driven by a gloomy-looking 
 youth in exceedingly dirty clothes. 
 
 “ Not even a second to make meself dacent,” he said 
 sulkily, “ an' I at her all the mornin’. She might get 
 there, though,” he added, more hopefully, seeing Hilde- 
 brand. 
 
 As they left, Hildebrand overheard a last important 
 murmur from Fitzy. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 303 
 
 “ Mr. Hannyside of Northlap Priory. Owner of the race 
 horses ” ; and Hildebrand smiled consequentially. 
 
 Fitzy went in front with the driver. Hildebrand was 
 packed between the two buxom Miss Gehogans, and the 
 fianc6, whose name was Joey, absorbed mud upon the 
 step. 
 
 The old car rattled and roared upon her over-laden way, 
 toiling up the hills on her third as though something must 
 give way, threshing on the level, rocking down hill. 
 
 Sam bored his way through the crowd very much as if 
 he were a battleship facing the enemy. He explained 
 placidly that if “ he didn’t keep a bit of way on her they’d 
 never get there at all,” and he finally landed them into the 
 narrow streets of Tulla in excellent time. 
 
 Here Fitzy said he must delay to cash a cheque, but a 
 search in his pockets appeared to confuse him greatly. 
 
 “ Left behind,” said Fitzy tragically. “There now! 
 isn’t it like me ? ” 
 
 Joey, on the step, whistled, “ Then you wink the other 
 eye,” softly. 
 
 With a winning smile, Fitzy asked Hildebrand to lend 
 him money. “ Having your cheque-book on you,” said 
 Fitzy, “ and this is your bank. I’ll let you have it to-night. 
 Make it out for five — or say ten. I wouldn’t like to be 
 stinting you all.” 
 
 Hildebrand, somewhat bewildered, was led into the bank, 
 where a trusting banker honoured his cheque. It was 
 only as they went outside, and Fitzy pocketed the gold, 
 that Hildebrand paused. 
 
 “ 1 could have given you one of my cheques to write 
 on,” he said, showing symptoms of returning. “You could 
 have altered the name of the bank.” 
 
 “ Well now, aren’t we stupid,” said Fitzy, getting on the 
 car. “ We’re late now, already, so hurry on.” 
 
 The car, gathering way with a groan, landed them at 
 length by a bleak erection of wood, uncovered to the mercy 
 of the day. Hildebrand gave forth five shillings for their 
 
304 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 car, Fitzy having no change, and they came full of cheer 
 into an ankle-deep paddock. 
 
 Tulla races are of some importance. Mingled odours of 
 beer and porter and whisky marked the door of a refresh- 
 ment-room to which they hurried gaily. Here hunger was 
 appeased on slabs of American beef, potatoes, cabbage, 
 apple-pie, and cheese — but champagne of no known brand 
 fizzed and gurgled into thick glasses, until Fitzy’s red 
 cheeks deepened by two shades, and the Miss Gehogans 
 giggled more freely than ever. Miss Ellie informed 
 Hildebrand sweetly that he was a trump, for she loved the 
 “ hoy,” but notwithstanding it all Hildebrand was begin- 
 ning to feel dubious as to his enjoyment. His cold beef had 
 been accompanied by soda water : he eyed the pink-hued 
 champagne almost regretfully. The first race was over as 
 they finished lunch, and the numbers up for the second. 
 
 Miss Ellie, clinging to his side, picked out a bay mare 
 called Daisybell, and asked Hildebrand to put a pound on 
 it for her. She watched him do it, produce it reluctantly. 
 
 Daisybell finishing a good fourth, Ellie remarked that 
 she would have it out with Corny O’Brien, and again 
 walked Hildebrand forth among the crowd. He recog- 
 nized some of the people he knew, who nodded to him 
 with somewhat curious smiles. For the third race Ellie 
 returned from excited whispering with a crafty-looking 
 youth, to request that another pound should be put upon 
 Santy. It seemed impossible to refuse, and with a groan 
 Hildebrand obeyed. When Santy won easily, Ellie took 
 the ticket and collected the money herself. 
 
 “That’s five pounds,” she said, with complete oblivion of 
 the hand held forth for the original stake. “ My, but 
 we’re in luck, Mr. Hannyside, to-day. Now for the next 
 race.” 
 
 “ I have no more money, I fear,” said Hildebrand 
 frigidly, his hand still outstretched. 
 
 To which Miss Ellie returned that she had enough to go 
 on with now, and that they’d look again for Corny O’Brien. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 30S 
 
 “There isn’t a ramp in Ireland that boy isn’t in,” said 
 Ellie cheerily. 
 
 The outing began to assume the shape of a nightmare. 
 Rain drizzled down. Ellie required constant safeguards 
 against the chill she might be catching, and she preferred 
 champagne to drink ; there was always some one she could 
 share with. When the fourth race was 'run and Sam 
 announced to them that he had no lamp that would last 
 more than an hour and no carbide with him, Fitz’s com- 
 plexion was plum-colour ; Joey, the fiance, said he was 
 going back by train because he would not trust himself 
 to sit on the step, and the two girls were hilariously 
 mischievous. 
 
 Hildebrand had to endure a bear fight in the dripping 
 carriage enclosure, and also the presence of Mr. Corny 
 O’Brien on his knee, that youth demanding a lift home. 
 
 The rain thickened to a blighting mist ; the old car 
 groaned and grated through the mud. Through it all the 
 two Miss Gehogans and Mr. O’Brien sang rollicking songs 
 with chorus principally consisting of “ Have done now — 
 Corny,” then a pleased squeal. “ What will Mr. Hannyside 
 think of your manners? I declare now, Vi’let — isn’t Corny 
 awful ? ” 
 
 Meantime Fitzy nodded on the driving-seat, seriously 
 inconveniencing the patient Sammy. 
 
 They crawled, now lightless, nearly into Cahervalley. 
 The car groaned and gave out at the bridge going into the 
 town, and fate sent that as Sam laboured to re-start it the 
 gleaming headlights of the Butlers’ car should dig its 
 bedraggled, helpless sister out of the dusk which hid her ; 
 and Dermot Butler, who was driving, slowed down to 
 proffer help. 
 
 Hildebrand, crushed into a corner, saw Susannah 
 Grimes’s face peering at him behind the dazzling lights. 
 Miss Elbe’s dripping hat almost rested on his shoulder ; 
 Mr. O’Brien, whose spirits were untirable, had taken the 
 opportunity to warm himself from a stout plated flask. 
 
 20 
 
3°6 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Fitzy nodded aimlessly across the steering-wheel, cooing 
 softly to it, and turning it about mildly, as he told it that it 
 was hard in the mouth. 
 
 “ Drive on, Dermot ! ” commanded Mrs. Butler. “ We’ll 
 send out a card. Hildebrand Hannyside, with those 
 dreadful people.’’ 
 
 “ I’ve never seen any one so changed,” said Mr. Grimes 
 sadly. 
 
 When Hildebrand, disgusted with the world, left the 
 Castle next morning, he was astonished by the warm 
 thanks poured upon him for the trip. His mild demand 
 for his money was met sweetly by Fitzy, who came down as 
 fresh as if race-course champagne had never existed. Top 
 Hole’s certificate of soundness lay on the breakfast table, 
 and Hildebrand had to write another cheque. 
 
 Hildebrand looked at the word “aged ” and said he had 
 not understood the horse was past mark of mouth. To 
 which Fitz answered absently that there was never a hunter 
 worth riding till he was seven or eight, and Hildebrand 
 felt satisfied. 
 
 On the doorstep of your host’s house it is difficult to 
 hint at debt. Hildebrand left without his ten pounds. 
 
 The arrival of Top Hole and departure of Perfection 
 marked the day of his return. He was somewhat astonished 
 to see Nora patting the bay lovingly. 
 
 “ He’ll do you splendidly, Hildebrand,” she said, “if he 
 gets through the season. Oh, the old dear — the old 
 treasure ! Fancy his coming here again.” 
 
 Hildebrand said sulkily that the horse was sound. 
 
 “Oh, he always was,” said Nora, “the darling. He was 
 Standish’s ten years ago, and there never was such a 
 hunter. I often rode him. I had him for two months.” 
 
 Standish Blundell and Sandy both came up to see the 
 new horse, and stood looking at him with such reserved 
 expressions that Hildebrand grew irritable. 
 
 “ May I ask what is wrong with this animal?” he said 
 loudly. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3°7 
 
 “ There never was anything, except his legs,” said 
 Standish, “ and I thought they’d go ten years ago when I 
 sold him.” 
 
 “ But, how old is he?” gasped Hildebrand. 
 
 “ He’ll be — twenty-three — no, twenty-four in May,” said 
 Standish. “ And even if he can’t gallop he’ll never fall. I 
 suppose, now, Fitzy made you pay a fiver with the bay for 
 the old boy. I never thought you had so much sense 
 before as to buy this horse.” 
 
 Hildebrand walked back to the house, and felt he hated 
 Fitzy. 
 
 A chill request for his lent ten pounds was received 
 pleasantly by Fitzy, who declared he thought that was their 
 goin’ up for the day, and hadn’t it on him now. 
 
 In four weeks’ time, when Hildebrand had recognized 
 the fact that the trip to Tulla was so much money laid out, 
 he opened a letter one morning and perused it with a very 
 bitter expression. 
 
 “ Hildebrand, have you been hiring motors ? ” said Miss 
 Mellicombe, looking at the bill. 
 
 “To hire of car to Tulla, five pounds. Chauffeur’s 
 expenses, ten shillings.” 
 
 “ It would appear so,” said Hildebrand, breathing 
 heavily. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Holy men . . . have good inspirations. 
 
 — Merchant o+ Venice . 
 
 ITH swiftly passing sunshiny days, November, 
 
 soft and warm, slipped to the chilliness of December, 
 its dull skies and darkened afternoons ; when half-past 
 three rang the knoll of falling dimness, and horses, save 
 for the heavy ground, did their lightest work for the 
 
 Hildebrand, when he had recovered from the shock of 
 buying a veteran of over twenty, found Pop Hole, as 
 Hannan remarked, his fair match. 
 
 The old horse, when he had shaken his head and enjoyed 
 the regret of his beloved hounds, was as glad to come home 
 as his fat owner. 
 
 Hildebrand’s first ride on his new purchase was marred 
 by the kindly criticism of Miss Grimes, who said, “ What a 
 nice kind old horse. You will be quite able to manage 
 him” and then asked why Mr. Hannyside had not bought 
 a red coat to hunt in. 
 
 “ Respect for my dear uncle’s memory,” said Hildebrand 
 stiffly, “ for his loss.” 
 
 “ Oh, of course, delightful,” said Miss Grimes absently, 
 “ respect, you know.” 
 
 Susannah’s visit came to an end ; she left with Hilde- 
 brand advanced no further in his suit, and Mollie was again 
 warmly invited to Lesser Cheriton. 
 
 “ There is no hunting,” said Mr. Grimes, “ but a horse 
 could be found with a neighbouring pack. I quite approve 
 of the sport.” 
 
 year. 
 
 308 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 309 
 
 His kindly words made Mollie’s answer unduly gruff, 
 because her voice would shake a little. 
 
 Perhaps after the winter she would come to the sheltered 
 residence of the Greater Bethelite. Perhaps. 
 
 Then winter passed a little drearily at Droveen. 
 Araminta showed no thought of going away. She made 
 daily visits to the racehorses, and talked with confidence of 
 the National. 
 
 “You will instruct the jockey, Mr. Watson, to make 
 his winning safe,” Araminta would say. “ Not to delay 
 in any way. I think, in fact, I shall go to instruct him 
 myself.” 
 
 “Let me catch you saying one word,” Hildebrand would 
 retort amiably, “just one word, Araminta.” 
 
 Hildebrand went back to England once and returned 
 depressed. He said that Miss Grimes’s religious balance 
 had been upset. Her father had bought her a horse, and 
 she rode it out when she ought to have been making flannel 
 shirts for the black Caribbee savages. 
 
 “Even Mr. Grimes,” said Hildebrand indignantly, “ is 
 different. When I hinted at Susannah’s lack of zeal, he 
 said that the savages were doubtless hot enough without 
 flannels, and that one shirt less wouldn’t hurt them. He 
 reads The Field” grumbled Hildebrand stormily, “ and he 
 used sporting expressions in his discourses. ‘ Stopped by 
 a bank which needed doing,’ and ‘ hot on the scent of sin ’ 
 were two which I noticed with deep pain.” 
 
 Hildebrand hated hunting with his whole indolent being. 
 He drew forth his field money with visible reluctance ; he 
 detested the cold whip of rain which makes the fire so 
 doubly blissful when one comes in ; he detested the 
 flurry getting away, the necessity of taking jumps to 
 keep in a run. Araminta, having exchanged her grey 
 for a tall brown horse with bad fore legs, and a distaste 
 for its oats, rather liked it in a mild way. 
 
 She spoke regretfully of the sacrifice she would make 
 when she settled down in London. 
 
3 TO 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ One that Arthur will realize,” she said firmly. 
 
 Sandy remarked that he felt quite sure Mr. Eustace 
 would not be allowed to overlook it. 
 
 Mollie’s youth had beaten back resolution. She gave up 
 sacrificing the present on the altar of the future, and she 
 came out hunting. 
 
 Dennis's valuable black seemed to be a curiously idle 
 animal, always wanting some one to ride him that winter. 
 Mollie spent joyous hours on his powerful back, learning, 
 as she gained experience, pleasure of finding her own 
 way, of watching hounds closely. Learnt, too, that all 
 hunting is not the glory of a gallop, and that a slow 
 hunt may be enjoyed for the perfection of its hounds' 
 work. 
 
 Araminta was always inclined to think hounds a nuis- 
 ance ; they got in her way on the heather-grown hills, 
 which she loved going to. She might often ride there 
 all day without jumping a fence. Also, her new horse, 
 Brown King, kicked at them, and Mr. Knox Harding had 
 been quite unpleasant about it. 
 
 “ Sandy,” said Nora one morning, as they strolled up to 
 the stables, “ Sandy, two little girls in blue and finnan 
 haddocks on Fridays have failed. And I could not endure 
 them for another year, Sandy.” 
 
 Sandy said that personally he would not have endured 
 them for a month. 
 
 “ It’s that fishing-place,” said Nora sadly. “ I do want 
 it so badly.” 
 
 “ I,” said Sandy, “ want the permanent absence of 
 Hildebrand and Araminta. They harangued Watson for 
 ten minutes to-day as to his wasted straw. Hildebrand 
 said he would have it shaken over and taken down for his 
 horse, and I could allow for it in the bill.” 
 
 “ Listen ! ” said Nora. 
 
 “ I declare to the powers above me,” declaimed Hannan's 
 voice loudly, “ them, too, is ones.” 
 
 “ They are,” murmured Nora, pausing. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3 11 
 
 “ I did but hand them the shoeing bill to-day, and she 
 says, Miss Mellicombe says she, ‘ I will not account for 
 horses’ shoes,’ says she ; ‘ and I paying for his keep.’ So 
 I up and towld her that shoes was not oats an hay 5 an 
 she said I was an eegit. ‘ Happy Christmas, miss,’ says 
 I to her Christmas Day, and it didn’t bring even a 
 shillin’.” 
 
 It was just about the festive season that Mrs. Butler took 
 occasion to have another talk with Mollie. It concerned 
 her stepson Dennis, and the permanent blight of his 
 future. 
 
 “ Married to money,” said Mrs. Butler, “ he can live as 
 man ought to, with horses and motors and a comfortable 
 house and a charming wife. Dennis is going to see Miss 
 Hall Marten in April ; he has promised to.” 
 
 Mollie, with her blue eyes very bright, said she hoped 
 Dennis might be happy. She refused two mounts on the 
 black horse, and gave up hunting for a week after this. 
 
 January rushed in on the back of a north-west gale, 
 cloaked with cloud and frozen with icy rain. 
 
 Mollie Knox, tired of the house, and tempted by a lull in 
 the storm, said that she would go out and along the muddy 
 roads, Pepper, Sandy’s terrier, with her. It was a mere 
 pause in the storm king’s rough game with the world. She 
 had walked for a mile and then turned in across the fields 
 to look at the river, when a great gust of wind shook the 
 calm. The boughs bent before the blast, as it whistled 
 across them, and, looking up, Mollie saw a huge mass of 
 inky clouds lumbering up with the wind. She hurried 
 down the shelter of the hedge. If she could cross the 
 river farther she would get back on a sheltered road and 
 struggle home. 
 
 Mollie remarked to some disconsolate-looking cows that 
 she had been a fool to come out ; for the later gale seemed 
 to have gained strength by the rest, and whooped across 
 the sodden earth, coming in solid blasts, hard to stand 
 up in. 
 
3 12 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 The Milquen roared in heavy flood, with floods of brown 
 water crinkling on the edges of the banks. Cakes of soft 
 foam came eddying into the sides, massing there ; the 
 current roared horribly above the howl of the wind. 
 
 The bridge was of two planks roughly flung across, with 
 a thin hand-rail nailed at one side ; the yellow flood 
 muttered barely a foot below it. 
 
 Mollie looked behind her. She knew then she would 
 find it almost impossible to make her way against the gale, 
 and that her only hope lay in getting a farmer friend of 
 Sandy’s to get out his cart and drive her home. 
 
 Picking up the dog, she got on to the bridge quickly, to 
 be almost knocked off it by a gust. 
 
 “ What nonsense,” said Mollie, sadly realizing that she 
 was frightened. “ Quiet, Pepper ! ” 
 
 The yellow water roared so near below, in swift eddy 
 and mighty slide, the wind swooped at her as some great 
 beast of prey. 
 
 “ Nonsense,” said Mollie, clinging and staggering. 
 
 Then, for some unknown reason, the hand-rail snapped 
 in front of her. A wind-flung branch had struck and 
 cracked it the night before ; it parted now as the planks 
 swayed and shivered. 
 
 Mollie turned to go back. She grew giddy ; she could 
 not face the force of the gale against her. She went on 
 again, close to where the rail had broken, and the flood 
 yelped higher with a snort. 
 
 “ It will break behind me now,” said Mollie dolefully. 
 She looked, fascinated, into the rushing river. A great 
 shower of icy rain fell, blinding her. Mollie knew that 
 unless she gathered her shaken courage she would fall in 
 and be drowned. She had the terrier under her arm, afraid 
 to let him go. She staggered and grew giddier ; the river 
 was a monster reaching up for her. 
 
 “Hello; hold on there!” roared a voice. “Hold on. 
 Don’t move. I’ll get you over ! ” 
 
 The vast superiority of man asserted itself — the bending 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3i3 
 
 of extra weight and steadier feet, with no petticoats to 
 flap and sweep him off his balance. Mollie cried out in 
 relief. 
 
 “ Give me Pepper/’ said Dennis Butler. “ Hold my coat, 
 and keep your eyes on the planks until we pass the broken 
 bit. Now then ! ” And it became a high wind and a 
 swollen river after all. 
 
 “ I was just coming over,” said Mollie, as she put her feet 
 on the wet grass beyond the bridge. 
 
 Dennis said mildly that he was not at all sure of that. 
 “ I was nervous about some cows I’ve got down here,” he 
 said. “ The field they’re in gets flooded, and I came to see 
 a fly staggering on the bridge. You might have been 
 drowned,” said Dennis, his voice deeper, “ you and Pepper. 
 What’s that — you’re going down to Hanlon’s for a lift ? 
 You’re not ; you’re coming up to Dennis Butler’s for some 
 tea — and he’ll drive you home.” 
 
 Dennis camped out in a corner of Corkcane House, a 
 vast old place which he rented for a few pounds. More 
 than half the windows were drearily shuttered. 
 
 Dennis pulled Mollie to a little side door, and into a 
 passage where the lull of comparative warmth and quiet 
 was blissful. Some men create an atmosphere of home. 
 The room which Mollie came into was warm and com- 
 fortable. If the chairs were rickety and broken, they 
 were covered with deep-coloured stuff ; the old prints on 
 the walls were good of their kind ; the rugs had once cost 
 money. A huge log fire glowed in a flat grate, and an 
 elderly woman was getting tea. 
 
 “ That’s my nurse,” said Dennis. 
 
 He explained Mollie’s plight, and suggested potato cakes 
 as a remedy. 
 
 Mollie was tired, the aftermath of a great fear was still 
 bearing on her. She sat by the fire, and wished that she 
 did not want to cry. 
 
 Hot tea and potato-scones brought the prosaic comfort 
 of food. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3 T 4 
 
 “ With heaps of money,” said Dennis, “ one could live in 
 this house. There’s a garden full of treasures, and some 
 of the rooms are lovely. I got leave to search the attics to 
 furnish this.” 
 
 Mollie said gruffly that she hoped money might come 
 to it. 
 
 “ One couldn’t try to live here, without it, could one ? ” 
 asked Dennis. “ Eh, Pepper? Even dogs want bones, 
 Pepper.” 
 
 “ And human beings — cigarettes,” said Miss Knox, 
 briskly. “ Now, if you have a pony cart, and we can get 
 against that wind, I’ll start.” 
 
 It was howling and raving outside. Its very wrath 
 brought a sense of comfort to the warm room. Turmoil 
 and tempest shut out, inside, youth and companionship ; 
 potato-scones and tea. Would not any money do — any- 
 thing suffice ? Mollie thought, and said the turfy smoke 
 made her eyes smart. 
 
 “ If I ever tried to farm it properly,” said Dennis, “but 
 it all goes on horses. If the black now won a big race and 
 sold well ! Three hundred or so would do a lot for a bit. 
 When I’m in England, I’ll have a chance.” 
 
 Mollie made for the door hurriedly, and demanded the 
 trap. She went to the old kitchen where Dennis’s old nurse 
 slaved joyously for him. The old range presented the 
 aspect of a dignified mother with a foal, for a tiny 
 kitchener crouched in front of her black splendour. 
 Mollie thanked the old woman prettily. 
 
 “ If Mr. Dennis had his rights,” said his old nurse, “ ’tis 
 not tryin’ to live he would be here, with a rabbit an’ a 
 duck an’ a snhipe, but he up above in his home. There is 
 no sinse in him, God bless him,” said Bridget lovingly, “ an’ 
 no chanst for him but a rich wife.” 
 
 Mollie was driven home through the roaring tempest. 
 She was peculiarly meek for her, and accepted a mount 
 upon Gameboy when it was pressed upon her. 
 
 “ If you like,” said Mollie quietly. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3i5 
 
 “ My dear child, where did you get to ? ” said Sandy, 
 rushing out. 
 
 “ Very nearly into the river, 1 ” said Mollie, “ with Pepper, 
 too.” 
 
 Miss Mellicombe, attired in a steel-grey tea-gown of 
 extreme magnificence, was shocked by the episode. She 
 considered it most unmaidenly. 
 
 “ Mrs. Butler will be greatly displeased,” said Araminta, 
 when Dennis had gone to borrow clothes for dinner. The 
 evening was, of course, far too bad for him to go home 
 again. 
 
 Mrs. Butler was exceedingly displeased. She glared at 
 Mollie loftily when next they met. 
 
 It was just after Christmas that Araminta put forth a 
 coy request for the invitation of Mr. Eustace to Castle- 
 knock. He was coming to Dublin to stay with a friend. 
 
 Nora issued the invitation with resignation. March was 
 her only hope of release. 
 
 The Rev. Arthur Eustace was duly fetched in the motor. 
 He was a kindly, broad-minded young fellow, anxious to 
 see the best side of humanity. It was not unusual to see 
 him smile or frown as Araminta reared a hedge of quite 
 imaginary prejudices about his religion. 
 
 Araminta insisted that family prayers should be the 
 rule during her fiance’s stay, and when Sandy’s hunger had 
 proved too much for his politeness, making it impossible 
 for him to wait, and they had been abandoned, Arthur 
 Eustace had finally strolled down absolutely the last 
 arrival. 
 
 “Theoretically, Araminta,” he said, replying to Miss 
 Mellicombe’s outburst, “ family prayers are excellent. In 
 practice they merely make ordinary people annoyed and 
 hungry.” 
 
 Mr. Eustace spent a great deal of time in the school- 
 room ; he loved children ; also the pipe, which Araminta 
 considered undignified, could be indulged peaceably up 
 there. He made sticky toffee over a turf fire ; discussed 
 
316 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 books with Miss Brown, and from the first hour seemed 
 exceedingly happy. 
 
 “ One must work,” said Eustace, a little wistfully, “ but 
 if I could do as I chose, I should live in the country.” 
 
 He came on a Friday. Araminta, after several uneasy 
 silences, suddenly announced that she would not take 
 Arthur to the parish church on Sunday. (( We shall try 
 the chapel,” she said loftily. 
 
 Arthur was led forth ; he confessed afterwards, without 
 the faintest idea of his destination. He met them all at 
 lunch with a twinkle in his eye. Araminta was stormily 
 ill-humoured. 
 
 “ I loved it,” said Arthur Eustace. “ It is always the 
 most beautiful of services.” 
 
 ‘‘And Father Carey, vice Mr. Hidderman?” questioned 
 Sandy. 
 
 “ It was not Father Carey, it was a stranger,” burst out 
 Araminta. 
 
 “He was very human,” said Arthur Eustace, “he 
 publicly rebuked his congregation because they never gave 
 him anything but eggs and bacon when he came to 
 strange places. He asked us in the name of Heaven, 
 what kind of — er— stomach they all thought he had — and 
 if there were no sheep in Cahervalley to provide chops.” 
 
 “ Disgraceful,” said Araminta, relieving her ill-humour 
 by a spirited wrangle with Hildebrand. 
 
 The Reverend Arthur Eustace wore a curiously thought- 
 ful expression as he listened to the verbal sparring of the 
 cousins. 
 
 Later, mollified by hot cutlets and apple-pie, Araminta 
 began to talk of all the good she meant to do when her 
 share of the inheritance came to her. 
 
 “ I shall put in a stained window for you, Arthur,” said 
 Miss Mellicombe, “ and you can have a proper room for 
 the people to read in, and a curate, so that you can come 
 out with me instead of slaving.” 
 
 Arthur Eustace crumbled his bread, making no answer. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3*7 
 
 Sunday was never a day of rest for the cook at Castle- 
 knock. The big drawing-room was generally full of visitors, 
 and Hildebrand invariably remarked that hot cakes were 
 sinful as he ate his fourth or fifth. 
 
 After tea Araminta looked in vain for her fiance, who 
 had gone to evening church with Miss Brown. 
 
 Sandy met them, both exceedingly wet, upon the door- 
 step, little Miss Brown with quite a colour from the walk. 
 
 Araminta said that it was very forward of the governess 
 to have gone in this fashion. Coming to dinner in a 
 splendour of shimmering beads and opal shades of satin, 
 she smiled more genially. 
 
 “ To-morrow/ ” she said, “ Arthur shall see me riding at 
 a meet — out hunting, Arthur, in a grey habit.” 
 
 “ If you’d like a mount yourself, Eustace,” said Sandy, 
 “ there’s Nora’s chestnut four-year-old.” 
 
 The Reverend Arthur Eustace simply beamed as he 
 accepted. 
 
 “ I used to hunt every year at home,” he said. “ No ; I 
 never told you, Araminta ; you see you might have thought 
 it undignified. 
 
 “Very decided wink, Maria,” observed Phillips to the 
 parlourmaid : “ clerical gentleman very expert at winking, 
 Maria.” 
 
 Araminta was shocked. She had vaguely expected her 
 Arthur to flutter holy wings about this household, to be 
 perpetually superior. He had watched bridge being 
 played and even offered advice that evening before dinner, 
 and now he was boyishly overjoyed at the prospect of 
 risking his neck upon a raw well-bred four-year-old, a 
 hunter with more zeal than experience. 
 
 Araminta spoke in low tones to Hildebrand ; she swept 
 her be-beaded gown up and down the room restlessly ; 
 then she grew happier. 
 
 “ You can stay with me all day, Arthur dear,” she 
 said, over the flame of her bedroom candle — “ to see 
 me ride.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3i8 
 
 “ Go well ? ” queried Eustace softly, to his host 
 
 Sandy shook his head, and Mr. Eustace sighed heavily, 
 then brightened up. 
 
 “ Dreadfully difficult not to lose people out hunting,” he 
 said happily, as he went off to bed. 
 
 The meet next day was at Cloonana, a country which 
 Araminta loathed. She watched the unpacking of her 
 clergyman from the motor dubiously. He was not 
 perched upon the pinnacle of loftiness which she desired 
 to fix him on. 
 
 Mollie was in the car to-day ; the black horse had done 
 a hard Friday. 
 
 With a sigh of sheer delight Mr. Eustace got into his 
 saddle, and endured three light-hearted plunges as he 
 did so. 
 
 “ Lightsome is he, Patsy, and lays hold, does he ? 
 Better than stopping, Patsy, eh ? ” 
 
 When hounds found, Cloonana is never blank. 
 
 Araminta rode the brown horse firmly up to the chest- 
 nut, and pointed out the road as the safest place to 
 stay on. 
 
 u Hssh ! there he goes,” breathed Eustace, “ steady, boy ! 
 Come, Araminta, they’re over ! ” 
 
 When Araminta next saw her future husband, he had 
 lost his hat, one black trouser-leg was rucked above his 
 knee, and he was palpably one of the happiest people in 
 Ireland. His thin face shone with keen enjoyment ; the 
 chestnut was now going perfectly, and fencing less 
 flippantly. 
 
 “You lost me, Arthur,” shrieked Araminta from the 
 lane she was pounding along. “ I told you to stay on 
 the road.” 
 
 “ I’ve never ridden over such a country. I’ve never seen 
 such a place,” returned Eustace. “ The horse is a — 
 ripper ! ” 
 
 “ Arthur ! ” said Miss Mellicombe. Then to Mrs. 
 Butler : “ There is my fiance, dear Mrs. Butler. He 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3i9 
 
 mislaid me in the rush. He must have been so anxious. 
 He will come here now.” 
 
 “They’ve got it. Jump in if you want to follow me,” 
 shouted Eustace clearly. “ Come on ! ” 
 
 The next moment the chestnut had topped a high, 
 narrow bank, and arched out over a wide ditch be- 
 yond it. 
 
 “ He seems anxious,” said Mrs. Butler dryly. 
 
 Sandy had a nasty fall and went home early, after the 
 run ; he gave his second horse to Eustace. 
 
 When Araminta, who had ridden home by herself, came 
 down, she found every one back except her Arthur. 
 
 “ They must have had a long hunt ; he has gone quite 
 mad,” said Araminta severely. “ The other horses are in 
 long ago. I heard them pass. Perhaps he is hurt.” 
 
 Miss Brown looked at her charges, who were quiet for 
 the time being, then she slipped out of the room. 
 
 The evening was still and pale, the glow of a moon 
 shining behind thin clouds. Araminta hoped, ill- 
 humouredly, that Sandy’s horse had not fallen into a 
 ditch or been idiotic. 
 
 She said that Ireland was a most disturbing spot — even 
 to holy angels. 
 
 At this point wheels crunched on the gravel, and they 
 ran out. 
 
 A luggage cart, driven by a stout and red-faced farmer, 
 who had decidedly not been teetotal during the day, was 
 lumbering to the door. Four people were crowded on the 
 narrow seat ; the centre two being Mr. Eustace, with a 
 handkerchief tied round his head, and little Miss Brown. 
 They were both smiling cheerfully. 
 
 The finest run in the world,” beamed Eustace. “ Ten 
 miles and more — away over the most glorious country.” 
 
 “ Arthur ! ” said Araminta. 
 
 “We found at a place called Clonshire, and ran out 
 west.” 
 
 “ Past Gurteen,” cried Sandy. 
 
320 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ And straight for some hills, going like smoke.” 
 
 “ Arthur ! ” repeated Miss Mellicombe. 
 
 “ Knockagreena,” cried Nora. 
 
 “ And swung round under them, running fast still.” 
 
 “ And he caught the Master’s horse just then,” said Miss 
 Brown. 
 
 “ And then back over such a valley. Oh, such a 
 valley ! ” 
 
 “ The promised land,” said Sandy. 
 
 Miss Mellicombe groaned at this speech. 
 
 “ Oh, it might be,” said Eustace, “ only it flows with big 
 ditches, not honey. And we killed in the open.” 
 
 “ And he got the brush,” piped Miss Brown. 
 
 “ Only five up,” said Eustace. “ And it was very late, 
 but the Master said I’d never find my way, and just then 
 this man passed, and one of the whips took home your 
 horse. Acland, they said, you’d be quite happy. And 
 Joe Clancy and his brother drove me here, bless him ! ” 
 
 “ An’ welcome,” said Mr. Clancy briefly. “Well, just a 
 glass, Mr. Phillips, thank ye.” 
 
 This to Phillips, who had arrived with fiery refreshment 
 on a tray. 
 
 “ And ye’re health,” said Clancy. “ Success to yer 
 reverence.” 
 
 “ Long life to ye,” observed his brother. “ Sure ye’d bate 
 the devil across any country.” 
 
 “ Arthur,” said Miss Mellicombe again, as they all got 
 into the house. 
 
 “ Oh, Araminta,” said Mr. Eustace absently. “ Pity you 
 don’t care for jumping, isn’t it? Dull work on the roads.” 
 Miss Mellicombe sniffed haughtily. 
 
 “What I cannot understand,” said Nora, “is how Miss 
 Brown got into that cart.” 
 
 “We met her beyond the gate,” said Mr. Eustace, “ and 
 took her up. I told her all about the run.” 
 
 “ Oh, yes,” said Miss Brown excitedly. 
 
 Over a late tea fences were jumped, both runs ridden 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 321 
 
 again from start to finish. Araminta, gravely displeased, 
 sat bursting with repressed impatience. 
 
 All the discussions she had meant to impress the Aclands 
 with were left forlornly unuttered, while the great example 
 she had held up to them rattled on cheerily with : 
 
 “Never saw such banks before, and, Jove! the way 
 those horses do 'em ! Was very nearly down at a nasty 
 stone-topped affair, but recovered as only a horse with 
 shoulders can. One dog, with a triangular brown patch 
 on his quarters, a marvel to hunt ; and another light 
 coloured one. What? Dragon and Sunlight? I’ll re- 
 member those two.” 
 
 And all the time, as Araminta sat in glum silence, little 
 Miss Brown would chime in with : “ Oh, splendid. Oh, I 
 do wish I had been driving. Oh, Mr. Eustace, how glorious 
 for you.” 
 
 “ One of the best fellows in the world,” said Sandy, when 
 Mr. Eustace, tired out, had gone to bed. 
 
 “ I could not have believed it of him,” rasped out 
 Araminta fiercely. “ Even a soup-kitchen would not turn 
 his mind from hunting this evening.” 
 
 Sandy looked at her gravely. “ Araminta,” he said, 
 “do you think a man serves his Lord the worse because 
 he’s full of pluck and enjoys a gallop? The same straight- 
 ness of going, Araminta, takes him over ugly fences in 
 the slums he works in.” 
 
 “ Gracious ! there are nothing but streets,” said Araminta 
 coldly, “ and the only fences are the gutters.” 
 
 Miss Brown clasped her thin little hands together and 
 peered into the fire. Then she raised her small head 
 and sighed, as Sandy’s son would have remarked, “to 
 shake herself.” 
 
 “ There is no fence,” said Miss Brown, looking hard 
 at Araminta, “ which could keep Mr. Eustace from his 
 duty.” 
 
 “ We shall have Miss Brown hunting next, on the tubby 
 pony,” said Sandy thoughtfully. 
 
 21 
 
322 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 The stables were in the grip of preparation. Red 
 Fancy, muscular and blooming, was doing hard work, 
 and Delight, his partner in his gallops, striding along 
 snatching at his bit, and jumping with the lithe ease which 
 takes nothing out of a horse in a race. They had trial stuff 
 in the flat in old Delight. 
 
 Pop-Gun, the little brown, did his preparation too. He 
 would never go any pace, but his jumping was a study: 
 his powerful quarters seemed to shoot him into the air, 
 his perfect shoulders to let him down without a second’s 
 pause in the plodding, resolute stride which he could 
 make no faster. 
 
 He would gallop into the first fence level with Red 
 Fancy, and gain a stride across it, to be hopelessly lost 
 when the big bay began to gallop. 
 
 Watson developed nerves. He watched his favourite 
 with eyes which would not keep steady, he required constant 
 comfort from pretty Delia. 
 
 “ If we had the old master here,” he would murmur, “and 
 then blow me, but I keeps a-feelin’ he is here. There’s 
 something chills me, an’ I watchin.’ ” 
 
 Phillips said sympathetically it was wet feet, advising 
 two pairs of socks, but Watson was not comforted. 
 
 “ The chill,” he said with dignity, “ did not come from his 
 stocking soles.” 
 
 “ He said he’d come to see his horse win, did Mr. Hanny- 
 side,” said Watson. “ ’E swore it, Mr. Acland, that he must 
 be there to see the blue-and-silver come home in front, an’ 
 s’wept me, an’ they gallopin’ to-day. When Pop-Gun passed, 
 I’d swear I ’eard a chuckle.” 
 
 Delia counselled the advice of Father Carey, asserting 
 that he would put an end to it all. She performed certain 
 mysterious rites with a bottle round the stable yard, but 
 Watson’s nerves grew no easier. 
 
 “ For I tell you, Phillips,” he said, “ there’s something, 
 there is. When Miss Mellicombe and Mr. Hildebrand come 
 out to-day, standin* to watch, and Miss Mellicombe, she 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 323 
 
 says bitter like, ‘Now when the race is over we’ll see, 
 Hildebrand. And all these brutes we can get rid of shall 
 go/ I’ll take my swear I heard the master laugh. The 
 kind of choking chuckle he had, all mischief.” 
 
 “ ‘ And I think/ says Mr. Hildebrand, ‘ that if Miss Knox 
 is going is live on here, there is no occasion for us to 
 support her, Araminta.’ With that, I tell you, I shivered.” 
 
 Phillips replied mildly that the warmth of generosity 
 possessed by the two cousins was enough to make any 
 one shiver. 
 
 The strain of tension hung over Castleknock. March 
 came nearer inexorably. One day of suspense, and then 
 they must wait for another March. It made Araminta 
 bitterly irritable, and Hildebrand gloomily irate. Some- 
 times when they ceased quarrelling they would sit talking 
 together, staring at each other and making plans as to 
 saving money. Araminta’s High Church propensities, 
 coupled with her extravagance, never ceased to irritate 
 Hildebrand. Hildebrand’s desires for cold mutton on 
 Sunday, and a church service shorn of all adornments, 
 was always food for Araminta’s contempt. 
 
 “ I wish to Heaven it was over,” said Sandy drearily ; 
 “and I tell you, Nora, there is a joke in that letter I hold. 
 I know it ; that’s what the old man comes back to chuckle 
 over, you bet.” 
 
 Nora Acland said that her husband was absurd. 
 
 Mikkelo discussed the matter with his cousin Hannan, 
 until they reached the entrees, for any name which had 
 to do with laughter or spirits. 
 
 “ For that’s a warning,” said Mikkelo. “ Didn’t me aunt’s 
 cousin be marriage go over the cliff at Lahinch, an’ he 
 havin’ a drop in one time, an’ he goin’ on to Galway next 
 day? Well, he searched the papers, an’ he found a horse 
 called Lucky Chance, and begonnes he backed him ; it 
 bein’ a lucky chance he wasn’t dead.” 
 
 “ And did he win?” said Hannan excitedly. 
 
 “ He did not, for me aunt’s cousin died,” said Mikkelo. 
 
3 2 4 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “It was one called Goodbye that came home, for, you see, 
 he mistook the sign. ,, 
 
 February slid in softly that year. The country was 
 slushy from rain, the ditches brimmed with dark-hued 
 water ; but now came a spell of dryness, of blue sky 
 peeping behind flecks of misty grey, of soft winds blowing 
 up promise of spring. 
 
 February is wont to give us great hunts before the 
 chill birth of March grips and kills the season. We find 
 travellers in our coverts who take us far away over little- 
 known lines. Scent lies well as a rule, and the ground is 
 beginning to ride lighter. 
 
 With the sun coming out warmly, with the whisper of 
 waking life in the world, Mollie could not resist hunting. 
 Each day, she said, must be her last, yet each day saw 
 another which could not be missed. The chestnut four- 
 year-old, growing discreet as he found that there was 
 something to do out hunting besides bucking, was now 
 entrusted to her. But her happiest days were on the black 
 Gameboy, grown into a horse worth many hundreds. 
 
 “ I ought not to be here,” said Mollie ; “ I ought to be 
 away somewhere doing something, for I know there is 
 nothing about me in that old letter. Red Fancy will 
 win the National. Araminta will go to London and 
 impress the West End with all the good she does in 
 the East ; Hildebrand will live in the odour of sanctity at 
 Northlap ; and — that’s all.” Mollie never spoke of the 
 clause in the will naming her, if the cousins failed to 
 carry on the stud. She regarded the idea as beyond 
 probability. 
 
 “ He ought to bring in three hundred,” said Dennis, 
 leaning over to pat Gameboy’s neck. “ There is a lot 
 of spending in three hundred, if one didn’t pay any debts. 
 Suppose,” said Dennis, “ I sold him, and put it all on 
 Red Fancy. He’s at ten to one.” 
 
 “ Ten o’s are o,” said Mollie, making imaginary lines, 
 “ ten o’s are o. And ten 3’s are 30 ; 30 and two o’s.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 325 
 
 u I think they’ve found,” said Sandy, riding up. “ Listen!” 
 
 They were drawing a big woodland. Flicker of sun- 
 shine fell through the bare brown boughs, chequering the 
 rides to silver. Brown switches and ragged ferns grew 
 beneath the trees. Hounds came across the ride, busy 
 on a stale line. 
 
 A long-drawn yell from outside. Scurry and rush to the 
 gate ; and then a short burst into Lusky Gorse, across 
 light going and mountainous stone walls. Gameboy was 
 fresh to-day. He reached at his bit as they galloped up 
 the holding rides ; he strode away with his neck set against 
 the bit when they got outside. Probably if he had had 
 a man on him he would have pulled very hard indeed ; 
 but the very certainty of his strength keeps a blood horse 
 from dragging the slight arms which have no real power 
 to stop him. 
 
 Most people who hunt in Cahervalley know the two 
 great walls beyond Creena Wood. Bleak and grey and 
 solid, they rear their crests across the fields, waiting grimly 
 for the first brave spirits who will knock down the stones 
 to let more cautious people get over. 
 
 It takes a bold horse and a clever one to arch up on to 
 the top and, changing lightly, drop down again. Then 
 with one thrown behind, a second monster rears itself 
 in front, a slightly lower wall and easier to top. 
 
 It was over the first one that Mollie knew what a fourteen- 
 stone blood horse, with ten stone on his back, is capable of 
 doing. 
 
 Gameboy was ridden his own line now. He swung out 
 clear to the right of hounds, and Dennis, looking up, was 
 horrified to see the big black extended, thundering down 
 at the huge wall. 
 
 “ Steady him!” shrieked Dennis. “He must top it. 
 He’s not too fond of a big wall either,” he added to 
 himself. 
 
 Dennis set his teeth for a hideous fall. At that pace, 
 with Mollie, seraphically happy, urging, rather than checking 
 
326 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 her horse, it seemed certain that Gameboy would catch the 
 top with his knees and turn over into the field beyond. 
 
 Phillips was nervously endeavouring to remember if his 
 master had a respectable hat for the funeral, when Game- 
 boy swept upwards with a soaring bound, high above six 
 feet of grey, and then they saw his heels swing clear of 
 even a stone. 
 
 “ Be gripes ! ” as Patsy described it afterwards, “ whin he 
 lepped the lep that no horse could lep the sight wint out 
 of me eyes.” 
 
 Mollie said afterwards that it was just like going to 
 heaven. The black steadied himself in the next field, 
 topping the second wall accurately. Behind them, the air 
 was full of the rattle of falling stones, as gaps were torn in 
 the first big fence. 
 
 On then, over low fly fences. Hounds racing with 
 nothing to stop them, into Lusky and round it, and back 
 again to the wood they had started from, when the fox got 
 into a rabbit-hole after half a hour’s gallop. A bank 
 country is more abiding pleasure to ride over, but some- 
 times a scurry over fly fences is something to remember 
 for many seasons. It takes a fast horse to live near 
 hounds as they fleet over the stone walls ; horses are 
 on the top of the ground, with no deep fields to blow 
 them. One can see hounds easily, without fear of losing 
 them. 
 
 “ Dennis,” said his stepmother, “is absolutely mad to 
 allow his one valuable horse to be risked over these 
 stones.” 
 
 She offered Mollie some cake as the girl rode by, and 
 her smile was a study in repression. 
 
 She then said kindly that she was glad to see Dennis 
 getting his horse trained for a lady’s use, and she asked if 
 Mollie was going to see the National. 
 
 “ We are all going over,” she said, “ to stay with the 
 Hall Martens. Miss Hall Marten wants Dennis to ride 
 for her in some race there about that time. You will be 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3 2 7 
 
 leaving about the end of March, will you not, Miss Knox, 
 leaving Mrs. Acland ? ” 
 
 Mollie said “ Yes,” dully. 
 
 " Leaving Ireland,” she said, dropping her cake. 
 
 Mollie looked round at silvery skies, at purple distances, 
 seen across the network of stone walls. 
 
 “ Leaving everything,” said Mollie to herself, as she sent 
 Gameboy home. She would not go to the last draw. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Think, when we talk of horses ... it is a theme as fluent as the sea. 
 
 NLY a month/ 1 said Araminta Mellicombe, 
 
 hysterically. “ Only one month, and the torture 
 of this year will be wiped out — “ its misery, its dis- 
 comfort.” 
 
 Sandy Acland coughed softly. 
 
 “ I could swear before Heaven I heard it then,” said 
 Watson, “ a chuckle, right up in my ear.” 
 
 Pulling double, Red Fancy swept towards them, eating 
 up his work gluttonously, big and yet muscular, just right 
 for the four weeks’ winding up. 
 
 No one looked at Pop-Gun, who pounded placidly on 
 behind the crack. 
 
 As the head boy pulled up Red Fancy, the bay swerved 
 sharply aside, snorting. 
 
 Watson said gloomily that ’osses ’ad eyes for queer 
 things, but young Greer had something else to say. 
 
 “ He wasn’t going too well in the heavy piece, over 
 there,” he said. “ Seemed to falter a bit like, sir.” 
 
 “ I never liked his middle,” said Sandy. “ Always 
 looked to me as if he’d die away.” 
 
 Watson sprang to the horse’s off fore leg, and ran his 
 hand down it ; his face, as he raised it, was about as 
 cheerful as a man who hears the judge sentence him to 
 death. 
 
 “ Sus — pensory,” he hissed, between his teeth. “ Oh, 
 my Lord — isn’t it the suspensory that I’ve been afraid of 
 all along ? ” 
 
 — Henry V. 
 
 328 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 3 2 9 
 
 Yet Red Fancy went in sound, and Watson stood again 
 pondering, hoping against his own decision. 
 
 Araminta had shrieked at the trainer’s expression, and 
 was now supported, unwillingly, by her cousin Hildebrand, 
 who was pale from anxiety. 
 
 “ The ligament ! the tendon ! Oh, get up, Araminta ! ” 
 said Hildebrand, “ or sit down.” 
 
 He plunged his large cousin on to the wet grass, where 
 she sat stiffly, too agitated to speak. 
 
 “ Do you think the horse has really strained himself? ” 
 said Sandy anxiously. 
 
 Watson replied that he was near sure of it. “ He didn’t 
 like the look of the leg.” 
 
 “ And why — he should chuckle for that,” said Watson. 
 “Take in Pop-Gun, Harry.” 
 
 Sandy remarked absently that now he would not buy 
 any salmon flies, and Hildebrand stared at his trustee in 
 wrathful bewilderment, followed by snappish questioning 
 as to what salmon flies had to do with legs. 
 
 The walk back to the house was enlivened by furious 
 repinings. 
 
 If it were true — to wait another year. To live on 
 allowances with all their good money wasted. 
 
 “ To keep that stable for another year,” almost shrieked 
 young Hannyside. “ Oats, hay, straw, oil, leather, boys, 
 trainer ! Oh, my heavens ! I have looked at Allenbury’s 
 accounts. Good money wasted.” 
 
 “ We should be better off if Mollie Knox had it,” sobbed 
 Araminta, “ and not be in this awful place.” 
 
 Sandy said mildly that the stud could return to Northlap 
 if there was anything really wrong with Red Fancy. He 
 was not going to keep it any longer. 
 
 “ For there are limits,” said Sandy dryly, “ to one’s 
 patience.” 
 
 Mr. Watson walked back in unabated gloom. He would 
 lose a large legacy if he gave up his position as trainer to 
 the Northlap stud ; but 
 
33 ° 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ ’Ow long might it last,” burst out Watson at the gate 
 of the yard. “ A year or two, or three, or ten — an* England 
 at no price for some people. And cousins,” said Mr. Watson, 
 forgetting himself in his agitation, “ cousins handy.” Here 
 he spied Mikkelo in the distance, and he sighed bitterly. 
 
 “ Good heavens ! you won’t give up training for us, 
 Watson ? ” said Sandy. “ You can’t. Think of the 
 legacy ! ” 
 
 Mr. Watson replied gloomily that he had savings. “ If 
 there was sense in females, sir,” he flung out bitterly, “ but 
 there is not.” 
 
 “Delia,” said Sandy to Nora, “apparently refuses to live 
 in England.” 
 
 Delia, in fact, had visions of a certain house which 
 was to let, where Watson had spoken of setting up as a 
 trainer. 
 
 A hive of bees robbed of their honey might have 
 hummed more quietly that day than Araminta and 
 Hildebrand. They raved and stormed at fate, they 
 abused their late uncle, they were united in bitterness 
 against the world. The vast expenditure upon the racers 
 appalled them. New horses had to be purchased for future 
 events. 
 
 Hildebrand took down several old books of law, and 
 believed the will might be upset. 
 
 “ He could not have been of sound mind,” said Hilde- 
 brand. 
 
 “ He wouldn’t go about chuckling now if he had been,” 
 sobbed Araminta. 
 
 They grew a little calmer later. Mr. Watson sent down 
 a message to say that the horse’s leg was not filling, and he 
 hoped all might be well. 
 
 But still flurry and fear dwelt with the two. Araminta’s 
 vast box was unearthed and packed. She locked up her 
 saddle carefully, and offered Mikkelo sixpence if he took 
 the trunk downstairs without again smashing it. 
 
 “ Sixpence ! God save ye ! ” said Mikkelo cheerlessly, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 331 
 
 u and the sides of the box just the fit of the narry 
 passage/’ 
 
 The cousins were going to England ; they were setting 
 forth to try to report the complicated will, which left them 
 both unhappily situated. 
 
 Hildebrand said they would divide up with rigid fairness. 
 Araminta grudgingly agreed to be content with the diamond 
 necklace if Hildebrand insisted on keeping the tiara. 
 
 They swept out of Castleknock with scant thanks to 
 Nora, and they were quite nebulous as to their return. 
 Araminta, in fact, had saved her sixpence, and left the 
 trunk in her room, travelling lightly with two others. 
 
 Hildebrand endowed Phillips with Danny Keefe’s misfit, 
 in lieu of a tip. 
 
 “Very useful for you as you ride, Phillips,” said Hilde- 
 brand loftily. “ Cost me over five pounds, you see.” 
 
 Phillips bowed respectfully as he took his gift. 
 
 He received it in the morning, and before luncheon 
 Mikkelo came forth in breeches of a brilliant saffron hue. 
 
 Phillips was pleasantly gracious when Hildebrand ques- 
 tioned him. 
 
 “ Exceedingly useful, sir. Mikkelo quite pleased to pur- 
 chase, sir, and Danny Keefe to take back the coat, sir, to 
 alter for a client. Oh, exceedingly obliged, sir, at the present 
 you have give me.” 
 
 “ He might have waited,” said Hildebrand thunderously, 
 looking at Mikkelo’s legs. 
 
 “ Mikkelo, they will take you for an orangeman,” said 
 Nora unsteadily. 
 
 “ They will not, ma’am, afther a week’s wear,” returned 
 Mikkelo, “ especially an’ I tarrin’ the old sthables pre- 
 sently.” 
 
 Hildebrand and Araminta went off to London to take 
 legal advice. Sandy wrote a long letter to Mr. Allenbury, 
 which brought that irate gentleman straight to Castle- 
 knock, and Watson took his horses to Liverpool. Red 
 Fancy, as a bad sailor, must be over for some time. 
 
332 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “But they haven’t a chance. He was as sane as I am,” 
 stormed Allenbury. 
 
 “They’ll try,” said Sandy. “They will try.” 
 
 “If they had only got married,” said Allenbury gloomily. 
 “ Now there’ll be a nice law case, and nice scandals, but — 
 he grew brighter — “ I might get in that libel action before 
 it’s over.” 
 
 “Just think,” said Mollie Knox to Mr. Dennis Butler, 
 “ if it goes on for years they will both go mad.” 
 
 Dennis said they would probably give it up and take 
 what they could get. 
 
 “ But Araminta is going to marry her parson,” said 
 Mollie, “and Hildebrand Miss Grimes, so they can’t settle 
 things.” 
 
 Dennis said “ H’m ” thoughtfully. 
 
 “ And there you are,” laughed Mollie. “ Standish would 
 stand on the doorstep when they were starting and quote 
 the witches’ chant for Macbeth. Whenever Araminta 
 snapped him up to say it was coarse and beastly he used 
 to get back to the hubble-bubble part again quite 
 placidly. Then he called out ‘ My kingdom for a horse ! ’ 
 as Phillips wound up, and then he waltzed me round the 
 steps, and said — ” 
 
 “ Oh, he did, did he ? ” said Dennis sharply, adding, 
 after a pause, that he hoped Miss Knox did not like 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 “ No, but I love Standish,” said Mollie, a simple remark 
 which created a long silence. 
 
 “And I’ve got a place,” added Miss Knox, “at Chester. 
 — I hate Chester; it’s all arcades — as a kind of companion 
 to a girl of sixteen. She is too old to have her French 
 ruined.” 
 
 “ There are hounds there,” said Dennis. 
 
 Mollie’s laugh told what her chances of hunting would be. 
 
 Spring was alive in the fresh, clear air. White clouds 
 sailed lazily across a soft blue sky. Shadows were cut 
 sharply clear, and there was power in the sun. March 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 333 
 
 winds had now begun to roar across the world, biting 
 fiercely as they came, waiting evilly at corners to leap upon 
 the poor mortal who, standing in the shelter and the sun- 
 light, had believed the day to be a hot one. 
 
 The smell of freshly turned earth came from a field 
 close by, where the plough was hard at work, shearing 
 out great red furrows from the green. The ploughman's 
 monotonous cries rang out to his horses at the end of the 
 furrow. “Hup! Woa ! Hup! Aisy there ! Woa! Hup!” 
 And then, the turn made, they would come steadily down 
 the long field. 
 
 Hounds would be out next day. As Dennis Butler and 
 Mollie walked to watch old Cadogan ploughing, Dennis 
 offered Gameboy for one last day. 
 
 “ But he’s almost sold,” said Mollie. “ And for so much.” 
 
 “ If it was even four hundred,” said Dennis, with the 
 ingratitude of man. “ But there ! ” he sighed deeply. 
 “ When I make it three thousand,” he said briskly, 
 “ then ” 
 
 The “ then ” was followed by a long pause, and a stifled 
 remark from Miss Knox that “ then ” he could buy gloves. 
 Sixes. 
 
 She looked wistfully across the fields stretching to the 
 feet of the hills to Ballymacshane and Athgarvin. The very 
 countryside was wildly beautiful in its disorder. There was 
 the wooden gate which Mikkelo had taken down in the 
 autumn to replace by a new one of iron ; the gate still lay 
 upon the ground, with sticks and briars piled across between 
 the gate posts, and the new iron gate waited for painting in 
 the shed. Through a gap in the trees she could see a pile 
 of grey stones where a storm had torn a hole in the old wall. 
 
 Sandy had sent for the stonemason, but he was away 
 “ berryin' ” his mother when the message arrived, and then 
 a frost came, and then he had got another urgent job, and 
 so the wall still lay in ruins. 
 
 “ It made a way out when hounds ran that way,” Nora 
 said easily. 
 
334 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 The spirit of careless Ireland hung over the land; the 
 spirit of careless, undying youth — of a child which will 
 never grow old — restless, merry, fretful, loving, raging, 
 from hour to hour. “ Let it wait — I must play. I must 
 go to other work,” she says, when she sees repair is needed, 
 “ this can wait.” While her recklessness offends us, we 
 must love her ; the .green land under its grey skies which 
 calls to its people. To laugh with it, to weep with it, to 
 do red murder for it, but to love it through it all. 
 
 There was Irish blood in Mollie ; the tendrils of Ireland 
 had wound their way round her heart. She thought of 
 splendid, trim old England, with its smooth roads, its 
 mended fences, its order and its forethought ; and she 
 wanted to stay where to-day was the world, and to-morrow 
 must dawn before it became of account ; where one 
 hunted in the hopes of selling the horses one rode, and 
 drove and scrambled through life joyously with the post 
 and its bills the principal trouble. 
 
 “ I love it all,” said Mollie gently. “ Yes, I’ll like to ride 
 Gameboy just once more, Mr. Butler, to give me something to 
 dream of when I go to walk under the arcades in Chester.” 
 Mr. Allenbury came out on the steps. He was visibly 
 agitated and excited. He held a letter in his hand. 
 
 “ I shall be delighted to stay until you all go over for 
 the race,” he said. “ Delighted ! But, my heavens, if this 
 is not libellous.” 
 
 Here he bent his eyes upon a letter in Araminta’s hand- 
 writing, and read out some of it. 
 
 “‘Journeys — travelling expenses — H’m ! Here we are. 
 Believing that ill-intentioned persons influenced our 
 uncle — influenced, themselves, by a desire to make money 
 which they otherwise would have lost— we are consulting 
 
 reliable and respectable firms ’ 
 
 “ Reliable and respectable,” gasped Allenbury, grasping 
 the iron railings. “ Respectable ! ” 
 
 “ Do not pin too much thrust in that same rail,” observed 
 Mikkeio, as he led past a young horse. “ The missus toult 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 335 
 
 me to renew it, but I declare the new bit is above on the 
 parcel yet. Have a care, sir,” he counselled. “ Ye might 
 get a hurt if ye went down.” 
 
 “ Might ! ” said Allenbury, gazing into the depths of the 
 stone-flagged cavern before the kitchen window. “ Might, 
 indeed.” 
 
 He left the support of the railings, and went on with 
 his letter. 
 
 “ Where was I? — Respectable,” he said. “Yes — 4 Re- 
 spectable firm, Messrs. Graspe and Hawke ; and also 
 Shodalby and Takeawle’ — noted robbers!” sniffed Allen- 
 bury. “ ‘ They advise us to try our case of upsetting the 
 will and refusing to waste money on a racing-stable. We 
 are consulting Mr. Heith Pritchard, K.C., to-morrow/ 
 
 “ And he’ll tell ’em,” said Allenbury, gesticulating 
 
 — the two idiots ” Here he begged Mollie’s pardon, 
 
 for he had apparently knocked her from the top step into 
 Dennis Butler’s arms. “ I thought I merely touched your 
 arm with the letter,” he said. 
 
 “ At times,” observed Sandy, “ one’s footing is insecure. 
 Well, we shall hunt to-morrow, and the east winds have 
 not begun. Tell us more, Allenbury ” 
 
 The meet was at Killeen, some distance away. 
 
 March held his chill winds back. A soft west wind blew 
 grey clouds across a background of pearl grey. Dun 
 heaviness lurked on the horizon ; the hills were misty 
 indigo, dark against the pearly softness of the sky. The 
 rusty look of changing coats made most of the horses 
 seem rough and poor ; they were light, too, after an open 
 winter, but hard and fitter to go than when they had 
 bloomed roundly in November. 
 
 Gameboy had kept his condition well. His light burden 
 had never tired him. He stood ready for Mollie to be put 
 up, quite determined to plunge pleasantly when she was 
 settled in the saddle ; but far too much of a gentleman to 
 think of moving before she was ready. Without a bit of 
 lumber on his great slashing body, with legs flat and clean, 
 
33 6 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 his deep girth and galloping quarters, and above all his 
 quality, Gameboy looked more than worth the three 
 hundred pounds which was to be paid for him. He pulled 
 a little, and was hot for a few fields, but, once settled down, 
 his manners were perfect. 
 
 Hannan, having been ordered to keep Araminta’s horse 
 exercised, had led out Noras mare to the meet, and from 
 the extremely meek expression on Hannan’s face, it was 
 quite evident that he did not mean to go straight home. 
 Patsy was mounted on a powerful three-year-old, short in 
 front as yet, and mad for his hunt. 
 
 They jogged on to Killeen, a gorse running along the 
 side of a steep hill, hard to get a fox away from, difficult 
 to get away from oneself ; the fences were a network of 
 wire. A benevolent government had set down a nest of 
 allotments, just close to it, where, as Derick Knox Harding 
 remarked, a man might think he was fighting the Boers. 
 
 As a rule, meets at Killeen were honoured by cold wind 
 and rain ; there was scant shelter on the bleak hillside, 
 and most people could remember long waits there, drenched 
 and chilled, while several foxes played hide-and-seek in 
 the gorse, until they got one by one jnto a great cave, 
 which represented Den to them. 
 
 Energetic people having blocked up most of this, foxes 
 began to run from Killeen, and the waits were enlivened 
 by hope. 
 
 But to-day a vixen came flurrying into the open ; the 
 covert keeper dived into the gorse to roll stones away from 
 the long refuge, and heads were shaken sadly ; there were 
 other foxes on foot, but they were sure to get in too. 
 
 Giving it up, a move was made to Killeen bog, a 
 straggling patch of gorse, lying low and sheltered. A hill 
 hung over it, its steep sides fenced by narrow crumbling 
 banks ; and at one side horses floundered to their girths 
 in deep, peaty swamp, so that it was never an easy covert to 
 see a hunt from. 
 
 Hounds were not even in covert when Harris’s cap went 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 337 
 
 up and his shrill view-halloa echoed across to them. A 
 big grey fox was stealing off towards the hill. One must 
 think getting away, for a cage of wire fences lies just across 
 the bog ; and it is always' wiser to gallop for a narrow road 
 which leads past them. 
 
 Flurry and rush then across the yielding brown earth ; 
 clods of turf and mud flung up ; the dull thunder of hoofs 
 on the soft ground, those who meant to pull up at the 
 first big fence racing the hardest for their start, and hounds 
 streaming away over the tussocky bog. Once across it, 
 they hunted slowly up the steep hill, running hard in 
 sprints. At the top of the long ascent the fox turned 
 sharply, and for a time hounds were at fault ; then he 
 was viewed, going quietly across to some deep fields fenced 
 by thick thorn hedges, where he had often found a friendly 
 hole before. So far the run had been slow and twisty. 
 With Killeen now straight in front, no one took it very 
 seriously, or thought of a great gallop ; but just as they 
 were going quietly across a squelchy field, with huge 
 hedges barring view on every side, the unexpected 
 happened. The old grey fox must have been caught 
 napping as he made leisurely search for refuge, for suddenly 
 hounds dashed away, stringing out as they raced over the 
 deep pasture land, flying mute on a red-hot scent. It was 
 no easy matter to get on terms with them, or even to see what 
 was happening. Leisurely people took it for one of bursts 
 the which had never lasted for more than half a mile ; the 
 few who always ride for a start, even if they believe they 
 may not want it, crashed through thick spots in the for- 
 bidding hedge, and earned their reward. 
 
 For there was no more checking, hounds pouring on 
 even, big, holding fields, so fast that one pause for wire, 
 one wrong turn must lose a man his place. Wide ditches, 
 brimming full, now fenced the yellowly grassed land. One 
 must swing at them to get over, and the tale of splashing 
 waters and muddy coats soon marked the horses that did 
 not like water. 
 
 22 
 
338 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Jerry, the first whip, was proving the advantage of being 
 a feather-weight, as his well-bred chestnut skimmed easily 
 across the boggy fields. Mollie had got away by following 
 Dennis Butler over the first thorny bank, and now, with a 
 scratch on her cheek and her veil a memory, she was well 
 out on the left, blissfully happy, the black gliding over 
 tussock and water-logged pasture as if the soundest of turf 
 thudded under his hoofs. They dwelt for a moment at 
 the corner of a high demesne wall. The plodding crowd 
 behind called out their hopes eagerly. 
 
 “ He’ll swing here — make back for Killeen gorse ! ” 
 
 Six miles away Dromeen Hill poked its blunt little nose 
 against the pearly grey sky. Not back for Killeen, but 
 straight for that, went the old grey fox. The few who 
 rode that burst close up to hounds are never likely to forget 
 it. There was not a second’s check. Horses had to gallop 
 hard across a country which grew lighter, but more trappy ; 
 stony, narrow banks cut across the now rising ground — 
 dangerous things to fly, difficult to charge on. Dennis 
 Butler’s bay chose the quicker way. He raced into them, 
 declining to be steadied, to slip out clear into the next 
 field. Gameboy was ready with kick of lightning-like 
 swiftness. In the next fence a silver gleam showed 
 through a straggling hedge. Jerry’s spring to earth, his 
 snip of the wire, and dart back to his saddle was almost 
 hawk-like ; but it delayed his followers. Dennis had seen 
 the wire, and pulled out right-handed towards a treacherous- 
 looking bog. It rode better than it might have, and now 
 there were only six really near hounds — six people within 
 sight of the staunch dog pack as they raced on without 
 a falter ; down a steep descent, into a narrow road, one 
 stick of timber the only way off. For a minute horses 
 plunged against each other, for no man wanted to lose 
 his place ; then they were over, struggling hock-deep in 
 black plough, with a hugh ditch facing a rotten bank 
 in front. Blown from a severe gallop, with heavy weights 
 on their backs, out of deep churning earth into rotten, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 339 
 
 crumbling clay, it was a study in the perfection of the 
 perfect hunter to see the horses steady themselves, find 
 footing somehow, and shoot clear over the ditch on to 
 the bank. 
 
 Wise people behind held away along the road ; but there 
 was no room for wisdom in the hearts of those who were 
 near hounds. 
 
 “ It’s not a hunt — it’s a steeplechase ! ” gasped Standish 
 Blundell, as he rode beside Dennis ; “ and how long can it 
 last — or we last ? ” 
 
 They bored through a wide boundary fence with stunted 
 fir trees growing on the bank, got over a deep, over- 
 grown ditch, and galloped up to the road, where hounds 
 checked. Six miles or seven had been flung behind with- 
 out a minuteY real pause, and only six of the field were 
 there to pull up with hounds. 
 
 Horses stretched out dripping necks ; they stood with 
 heaving flanks, with wide, distressed nostrils. Jerry was 
 casting hounds in the next field. Dromeen Hill was just 
 above them, and as horse after horse landed out over the 
 low fence on the road it really seemed that they were just 
 at the end of it all. 
 
 Muddy coats told tales of grief ; dead-tired horses, driven 
 on in the vain attempt to catch hounds, stood trembling 
 and blowing. 
 
 Derick Knox Harding, who had been delayed by the 
 wire, galloped to his hounds. 
 
 There it was ! They were away again, but running 
 slowly now up the hill. 
 
 No man may say with certainty where a fox will go to. 
 With an unstopped gorse two fields away, this old grey 
 customer swung away from it, and down towards Dreen 
 woods, a patch of thick fir trees lying in the hollow. 
 They ran fast again for a time, over a deep and difficult 
 country, with the wood just in front ; a big bank sheltered 
 a river, running swift in flood, and as five brave men went 
 bravely at it, five men went down. 
 
340 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Some one found a place where one could jump in and 
 out ; they struggled on into Dreen, and left it, too, bearing 
 away towards Fanstown, about three miles away. 
 
 Horses were blundering a little now ; hitting the clean 
 grey walls, galloping stiffly and without spring. They had 
 run for over fourteen miles as they faced Fanstown hill. 
 
 “ It will go on for ever,” panted Mollie. 
 
 Dennis looked at Gameboy ; the black had two cuts, 
 one of which, though not deep, was bleeding. He was 
 going a little sluggishly. His own bay was dead tired. 
 
 “ I ought to stop,” said Mollie. “ I ought to. The 
 horse is tired.” 
 
 But it was hard to stop with hounds running on steadily, 
 and the thought that it must just be over. 
 
 Dennis shook his head. They must see the end of it. 
 They would go on. 
 
 Just the last bit, when a horse has lost his accuracy and 
 spring, when a check has chilled him and let him grow 
 stiff, and the excitement of pace has ceased to keep him 
 going. An old hunter may be trusted at the end of a 
 severe hunt ; he has kept a little in reserve, he is set and 
 muscular ; but a weary youngster does not know how to 
 save himself. 
 
 “ They’ve turned again — they’re running back to Dreen. 
 They’ll kill him down there at Blayney,” cried Dennis. 
 “ Come on ! ” 
 
 They galloped down the hill, cutting off a corner. A 
 crumbling, piled-up double wall reared its grey crest 
 before them. It was growing dark. Mollie was tired ; she 
 let her horse go at it carelessly. They blundered on to 
 the top with rattle of falling stones as the black floundered. 
 Dennis cried out as he heard the “ ping ” of parting wire. 
 Next minute Mollie and the black were down, and as she 
 struggled free, a stream of red blood poured from Game- 
 boy’s fore-leg. He was cut to the bone — a great slice of 
 flesh jagged out. Even when it got well he would carry 
 the blemish for life. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 34i 
 
 Dennis said nothing as he tied it up. The quiet of 
 evening was falling, and the hunt had slipped away from 
 them. They were alone in the desolate country. Far 
 down they could see hounds, mere dots now, and with 
 them, the few who were struggling on with dusk falling, 
 and horses dead tired. 
 
 “ It is a wonderful hunt,” said Dennis. “ And he carried 
 you well, didn’t he ? Poor old Gameboy.” 
 
 “ Oh, it isn’t bad, is it ? ” groaned Mollie. 
 
 “ He will be out again next season,” said Dennis, trying 
 to speak cheerily. The three hundred pounds which he 
 had hoped for was lost to him now. 
 
 They led the limping horse along, knocking down gaps 
 for him, getting out on to the road, and creeping along in 
 the dusk to Blayney, where Dennis left him. 
 
 The end of the hunt is one of the records of Caher- 
 valley. Over seventeen miles, with a stout fox killed in 
 the dark, as he struggled gamely back to within two 
 miles of Killeen, and only five people left riding to 
 sound and not to sight, as near as a road or gaps would 
 get them. 
 
 Mollie was picked up in the motor. She was driven 
 back to talk wildly of her wonderful ride ; and then to 
 sigh — to drop into deep dejection. 
 
 “ There never was such a hunt,” Sandy said. “ And you 
 had the best of it all through, Mollie.” 
 
 “ But I have cut poor Gameboy’s leg off,” said Mollie, 
 dolefully. “ And he was sold for hundreds and hundreds 
 — and it was to make thousands. Ten threes are thirty.” 
 
 Mollie went to bed sadly. 
 
 The day after the great run was almost summer-like. 
 Light clouds played on a stretch of blue ; the sun shone 
 warmly. 
 
 Mollie went down towards the gardens, where in the 
 shelter one could forget that it was March. 
 
 The post had brought her a letter, which she read and 
 reread and stared at blankly. 
 
342 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Such words as “ comfort ” and “ kindness ” seemed to 
 predominate on the closely written pages. 
 
 Dermot Butler’s voice startled her. He had come down 
 the path to see the girl standing dreaming in the sunshine. 
 A blaze of yellow daffodils waved round her ; early scarlet 
 anemones blazed in a sheltered bed. 
 
 The sunlight caught the lights in Mollie’s curly hair. 
 Dermot sighed sharply. 
 
 “ If a man ” he began. 
 
 “ Well ? ” said Mollie. 
 
 Dermot sighed again. “ A man,” he said ; and hit the 
 daffodils unkindly. Then he added dolefully, that it 
 would be very nice to be born without mothers. 
 
 There was a note of hysteria in Mollie’s voice as she 
 replied unevenly that they’d look so funny in clu — clu — 
 clutches on the grass ; and her laugh was just the next 
 thing to tears. 
 
 “ Do what your mother tells you,” she said soberly, but 
 not without contempt. 
 
 “ If — I only — needn’t,” said Dermot. 
 
 The sunshine made gold of the girl’s hair ; her clear skin 
 had nothing to fear from the morning light. 
 
 Dermot Butler was heir to a great deal of money, and 
 Mollie knew that her power for the moment was beyond 
 that of all mothers. But she only smiled a little drearily. 
 
 “You need to,” she said, “you would always need to. 
 It’s like the buttonholes you must wear.” 
 
 “ Dermot ! ” said a voice through the trees. 
 
 Mollie Knox took the anemone-bed as cleanly as Game- 
 boy might have. She vanished through the garden gate 
 as Dermot’s mother marched into view. 
 
 “ Dermot ! ” said Mrs. Butler anxiously, “ you’ve not 
 done anything foolish ? You’ve remembered your promise 
 to me about that impossible ” 
 
 “ I am going to England by to-night’s mail,” inter- 
 rupted Dermot sharply. “ I wonder, mater, if you will ever 
 be sorry.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 343 
 
 He left his mother alone by the daffodils. 
 
 Mollie wandered on through the rambling garden. The 
 white double primroses were making pearl edging against 
 the dull red tiles. Wallflowers blazed in fragrant masses. 
 Flowers flourished everywhere at Castleknock. Nora would 
 have no useful rows of cabbage and potato, without gay 
 colours to tone down their solid worth. 
 
 “ The gran’ borthers I could be usin’ up for parsley,” 
 old Reidy would growl, " tangled with primmeroses and 
 rubbish, an’ them extortions settin’ themselves everywhere 
 ye’d be axin’ thim not to.” 
 
 Extortions was Reidy’s version of nasturtiums. 
 
 Mollie took out her letter again. She read it with eyes 
 which would brim over with tears. 
 
 She sat down near the greenhouse and looked dully at 
 Dennis Butler as he came up the path. 
 
 “ Gameboy ? ” Mollie queried quickly. 
 
 “ He’ll be all right next year. The tendon may not 
 be stiff,” comforted Dennis. “ Oh, here, I say, don’t ! ” 
 
 For Mollie’s eyes brimmed over. 
 
 “ It’s — onions,” said Mollie hurriedly. “ I — was picking 
 them.” 
 
 Dennis said politely that the taste of picking onions was 
 a curious one, and he looked at the garden plots. 
 
 “ I’ve ruined your horse,” gulped Mollie, “ taken away 
 your money — all you had for the year.” 
 
 Dennis sat down beside her. “ Fifty pounds a quarter,” 
 he said firmly, “ all owed before it comes. No house-rent 
 and no furniture. Three horses and a decent forage dealer. 
 There’s a lot of counting in it all.” 
 
 Mollie’s eyes studied the letter which she held. They 
 lighted on figures denoting three hundred pounds per 
 annum, and following this something about hunting. She 
 laughed bitterly. 
 
 “ I can earn that in a year,” she said, “ and get kept 
 besides, in a situation offered to me. ‘ What situation ? ’ 
 As companion to an elderly person — the kindest person 
 
344 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 on earth,” gulped Miss Knox. “And it’s just that which 
 makes me doubtful. But I could buy Gameboy from you,” 
 she said, brightening. 
 
 What Dennis remarked was “ Damn Gameboy ! ” and he 
 never even apologised for swearing. 
 
 A somewhat ragged gap in the conversation followed 
 this, until Dennis said that he supposed they would all 
 meet at Liverpool. 
 
 “ Liverpool,” said Mollie coldly, “ is a large place. And 
 you will be — well — busy at those races,” she looked stead- 
 fastly at Dennis’s brown-skinned face, at his shabby 
 tweed suit, and boots with a shamelessly visible patch 
 at one side. 
 
 “Yes,” said Mollie, “you will be busy, and now I see 
 your stepmother.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler had come on into the garden. They saw 
 her, splendid in furs, outlined against a background of 
 cabbages. 
 
 Mollie put her small head up to an uncomfortable angle, 
 her cheeks flamed, she walked towards the house and said 
 “ Good morning ” stiffly. 
 
 But having seen the two seated very close together on a 
 long seat, Mrs. Butler lost caution. She was exceedingly 
 anxious to marry Dennis well, as it would mean no future 
 care as to his allowance of legacy. 
 
 Dennis’s stepmother, therefore, cleared her throat, and 
 made a frontal attack, plunging suddenly into verbal 
 action. 
 
 “ Did Miss Knox realize what a penniless marriage 
 meant? How wretched it would be to take advantage of 
 a young man’s passing affection ? She really trusted that 
 Miss Knox would have the good sense to leave Castle- 
 knock immediately.” 
 
 Mollie’s head went higher than before ; she crumpled 
 the letter in her hand. 
 
 “ I can manage my son Dermot,” said Mrs. Butler. 
 
 “Yes,” said Mollie dryly, “you have managed him.” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 345 
 
 “ But Dennis has always been a fool,” went on his step- 
 mother irritably, for there is nothing more confusing than 
 a silent opponent. 
 
 “ I think,” said Mollie after a pause, “ that I am taking 
 a permanent situation, and that you need not worry, Mrs. 
 Butler.” 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Such a mad marriage never was before . . . 
 
 — Taming of the Shrew . 
 
 Now the Play is done.' 
 
 —All's Well That Ends Well. 
 
 T HE day dragged heavily at Castleknock. Mr. Allen- 
 bury was the only really cheerful person in the house. 
 A letter received from London raised him to radiancy. 
 
 “ They have been in to Johnson’s,” he said. “ Johnson is 
 our London agent — my cousin, in fact — and it appears their 
 K.C. told them bluntly they had not a leg to stand on if 
 they tried to upset the will.” 
 
 Sandy was astonished, the day before they started for 
 England, to receive a request for an interview from Miss 
 Brown. 
 
 The little governess gave meek notice to leave, and she 
 hovered over the verge of some further communication. 
 
 “ Miss Mellicombe had not written ? ” 
 
 Sandy said “ No.” 
 
 “ Not to say that her engagement was broken off? ” 
 
 “ No ! Is it ? ” said Sandy, endeavouring not to add that 
 he was highly pleased. 
 
 “ She knew some days ago.” Miss Brown fidgeted. “ Mr. 
 Eustace was afraid of a hasty temper, and he found he 
 could not love Miss Mellicombe.” 
 
 “He appears to have told you several things,” said 
 Sandy. 
 
 He looked at Miss Brown. He realized that she had 
 fluffed out her flattened hair, and a long-lost prettiness had 
 come to life in her small face. 
 
 Miss Brown looked meek and said nothing. Then she 
 coughed, and went out. 
 
 The morning was troubled by telegrams. They poured 
 
 346 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 347 
 
 in from England until the harried local messenger said he 
 might as well sthay altogether at Castleknock to save the 
 trouble of pastin’ out there ivery second minnet. 
 
 But first, by the second post — Sandy sent the motor for 
 it — came a letter from Araminta. It set forth the treacher- 
 ous failing of Arthur Eustace. “ All due,” wrote Miss 
 Mellicombe, “to the pernicious influence of Ireland. How 
 could holiness and righteousness last, battered and shaken 
 on four-year-olds in pursuit of foxes? Her heart was 
 broken, and the excuse was that Mr. Eustace considered 
 her, Araminta, who had fasted on Fridays since she was 
 fifteen, unfit for a clergyman’s wife, and also that it was 
 only honest to say he did not love her. 
 
 “This was engineered in Ireland,” stormed Araminta. 
 Further she went on to say that all lawyers worked 
 together, and the upsetting of the will seemed too costly 
 to go on with. 
 
 “ My next interview with the Mellicombe cousins,” said 
 Allenbury, “ will be a cheerful one. I am looking forward 
 to it.” 
 
 “ Telegram, sir,” said Phillips, arriving with the first of 
 the day’s batch. “Very important, I imagine, sir — boy 
 greatly excited, sir.” 
 
 Next minute Sandy called wildly for his wife ; the words 
 on the flimsy orange paper were tragic. 
 
 “ Red Fancy lame — no hope of starting. Shall run 
 Pop-Gun as arranged. Have wired Mr. Hannyside and 
 Miss Mellicombe. Watson.” 
 
 Sandy Acland groaned aloud. 
 
 Another March practically come and gone. Another 
 twelve months before them, with mere hopes of patching 
 Red Fancy’s leg, and perhaps seeing him break down 
 again. With some youngster coming out to learn, at the 
 cost of a fall, that the great bushed-up fences at Aintree 
 are not to be brushed through. 
 
 “ I am sorry, Allenbury ; but I must give it up,” said 
 Sandy. “ At least if it means that those two,” here he 
 
348 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 paused, “ come over here to watch. The horses must go 
 back to Northlap.” 
 
 Nora murmured “ Salmon and bailiffs,” in dolorous 
 tones. 
 
 “ There were so many of them/* moaned Mrs. Acland, 
 “ and we never tried for the white trout” 
 
 “Telegram, sir,” said Phillips. “Three telegrams, 
 sir.” 
 
 “ What is to be done now ? Our hope is broken down 
 by training in Ireland. Araminta Mellicombe.” 
 
 “ We shall hold you responsible for this failure. 
 Hannyside.” 
 
 “They are together; both wires are from Vere Street,” 
 said Allenbury, opening the third wire, which was addressed 
 to him. 
 
 “ Come over at once for interview. Hannyside, 
 Mellicombe.” 
 
 “ I won’t,” said Mr. Allenbury placidly. “ Not until 
 after the race. We start this evening, don’t we ? ” 
 
 “Yes,” said Sandy drearily. “To see Pop-Gun finish 
 last. Goodness ! what’s that ? ” 
 
 It was Delia, sobbing noisily outside, talking to 
 Phillips. 
 
 “ Another by-product,” said Sandy resignedly. 
 
 Delia’s high-pitched tones came audibly through the 
 window. 
 
 “ Tin shillin’ I had on him, Mister Phillips. That I 
 gave Watson to put on, an’ there’s the five pound I was 
 lookin’ for gone for ever.” 
 
 “ That’s the way of thim horses,” observed Mikkelo, 
 from some unseen corner. “ Down goes yer money, and 
 with that up goes an inflammaytion. An’ ye’d but folly 
 the sign, Delia. God save us ! control yerself ! Me nose 
 is off.” 
 
 Apparently at this point Delia flung something at 
 Mikkelo which hit him, for the shrubs crackled vigorously 
 as some one fled through them. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 349 
 
 Delia walked, sniffing loudly, up the steps, raining ill- 
 wishes on the unstability of horse flesh. 
 
 Mollie Knox, who was pale and peculiarly quiet, 
 brightened up when she heard the news. She said she 
 would give a great deal to hear Araminta and Hildebrand 
 discussing the breakdown of their hopes. 
 
 “ They looked upon that race as over,” said Sandy. 
 “ Poor old Reggie tried for all his life, but they were to 
 win the very first time. Perhaps in March ten years hence, 
 they may realize what racing means.” 
 
 “ Telegram, sir. First boy back again, sir,” said 
 Phillips. 
 
 “Say if Watson is to run the brown Pop-Gun; surely 
 unnecessary expense, as no hope of winning. Hannyside, 
 Mellicombe.” 
 
 “ Is a reply paid ? ” Sandy asked. 
 
 “ No, sir,” answered Phillips. 
 
 “ Then tell the boy to go,” said Sandy shortly. 
 
 Standish Blundell was going with them to the National. 
 He drove over, arriving at the same time as the fifth 
 telegram, and he had, of course, heard the news from 
 Mikkelo. 
 
 Said Standish gloomily : “ There’s Mikkelo now sitting 
 down with a betting list from Holland, and trying if he’d 
 find anything with a name like a ghost.” 
 
 It was Mollie’s turn to get a telegram. She read it, 
 laughed, and tossed it over to Sandy. 
 
 “ Delighted to announce to you Susannah’s engagement 
 to Mr. Butler. We have wired to his mother.” 
 
 “ Why should he let you know ? ” Sandy asked. 
 
 Mollie smiled drearily. And Nora softly called her 
 husband a fool. 
 
 Mollie Knox went listlessly out of the room. Sandy 
 shook his head rather sadly. 
 
 “ I wonder what is really written in that letter, Allen- 
 bury,” he said slowly. 
 
 “ Legal jargon,” said Mr. Allenbury ; “ the old fellow 
 
3So 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 got something done by another firm. Probably some- 
 thing about his horses.” 
 
 " He never dreamt,” burst out Sandy, “ of those two 
 allowing the child ten shillings a week.” 
 
 Allenbury shook his head. “ He may have dreamt of 
 five,” he said dryly. “ Old Hannyside had fully studied his 
 niece and nephew.” 
 
 The morning-room at Castleknock looks out on a 
 sheltered patch of flower beds. Nora had re-covered her 
 old furniture, and made the shabby room quaintly pretty. 
 Across the sheltered scrap of turf one could see the hills 
 rising beyond the trees. The hills from which Sandy had 
 first driven down to see Castleknock. 
 
 Mollie sat at the writing-table. Taking up a pen, she 
 dipped it into the ink several times, but wrote nothing. 
 Then she smoothed out a crumpled letter and read it. 
 
 Kindly, affectionately, Leonard Grimes offered her his 
 home, and his name. He said bluntly that he was fifty ; he 
 knew that he was asking for a great deal. But also he 
 knew that a little girl whom he had grown to love was 
 homeless, almost penniless, and if comfort and devotion, if 
 money and care could suffice, he asked Mollie to think of 
 it. She should hunt, have a motor ; the worship of Greater 
 Bethel was never to be forced on her. 
 
 “For I learnt many things in Ireland,” wrote Mr. Grimes, 
 “ and even a winter there, if you cared for it, would not be 
 impossible.” 
 
 The words grew blurred by a girl’s tears. The man’s 
 simple kindness seemed stamped across the pages. 
 
 “ If he wasn’t so kind — so nice,” said Mollie, aloud, “ I 
 would not mind so much. I should not mind not loving 
 him ” she faltered. 
 
 Yellow tulips made a glory of gold outside, red and 
 white giant daisies, and deep blue forget-me-nots round 
 them. A border of wallflowers seemed to shine as captured 
 sunshine ; scarlet anemones flared. 
 
 The scent of the spring flowers drove in through the 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 35 1 
 
 open window ; far off Mollie could see the misty blue hills, 
 the country she loved to ride over. 
 
 Comfort — a good home — a kind companion. Cold things, 
 with the call of springtime in the air ; with the growth of 
 blood-red anemones across the green grass ; with soft 
 Irish skies beyond. 
 
 But Dennis Butler was going to stay with the Hall 
 Martens, and Miss Hall Marten liked him. Dennis wanted 
 money. 
 
 Mollie took up her pen again, determinately ; she tried 
 to write at first without any ink, and through a blur of 
 smarting tears. She dipped her pen at last, and wrote 
 rapidly. 
 
 “ Mollie,” said some one outside. “Oh, Mollie, you’re 
 crying. And there are no onions to-day.” 
 
 Dennis Butler jumped in over the low window-sill. He 
 had entreated Nora to keep his mother quiet in the 
 morning-room. He looked at the words Mollie had 
 written. 
 
 “ Dear Mr. Grimes, 
 
 u If you really wish it, I will marry you. If you 
 will understand that I care for some one else, and will 
 always care ” 
 
 “ Who ? ” said Dennis. “ Who ? ” 
 
 “ Mr. Grimes,” sniffed Mollie drearily, and wilfully 
 misunderstanding. “ And if he only wasn’t so nice.” 
 
 Next minute she saw her letter torn across. With her 
 head held against a shabby tweed coat, she was listening 
 to the impossible suggestions of a hot-headed Irishman 
 very much in love. 
 
 “ Mollie, he’s bald. And, Mollie, even fifty pounds a 
 quarter is something. I’ll work, Mollie. I never have. I’ll 
 work. I’ll make the governor lend me money to buy cows 
 and sheep. And there are rabbits, Moll ! They do make 
 lots of things, rissoles and pies ; and trout ; and if you 
 could face it. Oh, better anything than that,” flung out 
 Mr. Butler viciously. 
 
352 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 As he raved on he did not notice two middle-aged 
 gentlemen — three, if Standish Blundell could be counted — 
 standing outside. A puff of wind caught half the torn 
 letter which Mollie had commenced, and swept it to their 
 feet. It was impossible not to look down and read it. 
 
 “ Dear Mr. Grimes, 
 
 “ If you really wish it I will marry you. If you 
 will understand that I care for some one else.” 
 
 Sandy’s push to his guests was rude in its velocity. It 
 swept them back behind the trimly cut laurels. It placed 
 Mr. Allenbury sitting in an astounded position on a 
 polyanthus rose-bush. 
 
 The only sympathy which he received being a “ Don’t 
 let it make a noise breaking under you.” Allenbury got up 
 resignedly, and picked out thorns in silence. 
 
 “ Those two poor children,” said Sandy, going back to 
 the front. “ Oh, those two poor children.” 
 
 Mollie and Dennis stared at each other with the bleak 
 misery of youth. They suffer, so they think, more than 
 ever mortal has, who prates of a dull future in which time 
 will bring power of endurance ; this present ache of misery 
 is with us, blinding young eyes, paining young throats ; 
 with frantic mental fists they beat against the pricks, to 
 fall back bruised and bleeding. 
 
 “ Oh, Mollie,” said Dennis. “ It’s fifty pounds a 
 quarter.” 
 
 “ All owed,” said Mollie, with a dim smile, more pitiful 
 than tears. 
 
 Dennis got up. Owed twice over now that Gameboy’s 
 price would not be there to help. 
 
 “ But — that old buffer,” said Dennis hoarsely. 
 
 Mollie raised a woebegone face. “ That dear, kind, 
 good old buffer,” she said. “ I see now that I cannot. I’ll 
 go to Chester, to the arcades, and work,” said Mollie. 
 " I’ll not give him a nasty crying wife. Perhaps — some 
 day ” 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 353 
 
 “ Some day,’* the cruellest word youth knows. They 
 cannot look with patience across the track marked 
 waiting. 
 
 “ Perhaps some day,” said Dennis, i( when I make things 
 pay. And I am no use at farming, after all. Oh, I cannot 
 ask you to wait for me.” 
 
 “ Telegram, sir,” said Phillips to Sandy, “ brought by 
 a special messenger, sir, both boys being here. Special 
 messenger asking for whisky, sir, in addition to extra 
 porterage.” 
 
 Next minute Phillips’s urbanity 'was dispelled by his 
 master butting hard against him, as with a spring he 
 reached Mr. Allenbury’s side. 
 
 “ Give him champagne, Phillips,” shouted Sandy* 
 “ champagne ! The Pol Roger. Give him old brandy* 
 Phillips.” 
 
 “ Gor lumme ! ” observed Phillips blankly, nursing his 
 injured arm, and then hurriedly following his master. 
 
 Mollie and Dennis, standing forlornly apart, were roused 
 by the thunderous entrance of Sandy Acland and Allen- 
 bury, and roused more fully still by a war-dance performed 
 round the morning-room. 
 
 “ Read it,” shouted Sandy. “ Oh, read it and frame it.” 
 
 He thrust the wire into Mollie’s hands. 
 
 u Absolutely tired of present situation. Married to-day 
 before registrar owing to religious dissensions. Proceeding 
 to Northlap for honeymoon. Save hotel bill. Wish 
 Mollie Knox joy of horses. Araminta and Hildebrand 
 Hannyside.” 
 
 “ Hildebrand told the best man to send that telegram/'* 
 said Sandy shrewdly. “ It’s as long as a letter.” 
 
 “ They are — married,” said Mollie wildly. “ Then 
 I ” 
 
 “ Then you have the Northlap stud, with sufficient 
 money to keep it up,” shouted Allenbury, “ until the 
 National is won.” 
 
 23 
 
354 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 “ And, oh, my goodness, I shall want some one to look 
 after it,” said Mollie, looking frankly at Dennis Butler. 
 
 “ Until one of the Northlap horses wins the race,” said 
 Allenbury. 
 
 Mollie, pinkly joyous, confused by sudden joy, replied 
 callously, that by then her manager would have five 
 shillings a week old age pension. 
 
 “ And they’re married,” said Sandy, calming down. 
 “ And they can fight all day, and Hildebrand will go to 
 Bethel and Araminta fast on Fridays, and Mollie has 
 enough to marry on.” 
 
 “ Champagne to select from, sir, for extra messenger, 
 sir,” said Phillips woodenly, entering with a tray, and 
 getting over to the telegram. 
 
 “ They are married, Phillips,” cried Sandy. “ Married ! 
 They’ll never come here again, Phillips ! ” His feet fell to a 
 new dance. 
 
 Mr. Phillips committed one of the few indiscretions of 
 his life ; he dropped the tray and he gripped his master’s 
 hand, and his feet moved rapidly. 
 
 As the contents of a bottle of Perrier Jouet frothed from 
 the broken neck on to the carpet, Phillips, crimson at his 
 lapse, explained : “ Merely to steady myself, sir. Pray 
 excuse me, sir.” 
 
 “ It was not to steady yourself, Phillips,” said Sandy. 
 “ And I don’t wonder, Phillips. I must do something 
 myself.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler had at length escaped from Nora’s detaining 
 hands. As she opened the door of the morning-room she 
 was confronted by the astounding spectacle of Sandy 
 Acland and Mr. Allenbury waltzing gracefully round the 
 room whistling the “ Merry Widow.” Not having paused 
 to consider appearances, Sandy’s arm reached - up for 
 Allenbury’s waist, and Allenbury rested his hand some- 
 where on Acland’s red head. Mollie Knox and Dennis 
 were standing at the table arm-in-arm, and Phillips and 
 Standish were opening champagne. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 355 
 
 “ Is every one,” thundered Mrs. Butler, “ mad ? ” 
 
 “With joy,” said Standish, seizing her waist and 
 suddenly sweeping her unwilling feet into the mazes of the 
 waltz. 
 
 “ La-la. De-de,” boomed Standish. “ La-la. De-de ! 
 Let every man betake him to his legs, tickle the senseless 
 rushes with his heels. Which of you now that will deny 
 to dance I’ll swear has corns,” said Standish, dragging the 
 lady into a chair to demand the reason of the insult. 
 
 “ Midsummer madness,” said Sandy ; “ they’re married, 
 and Mollie’s got the stud to mind, and three thousand a 
 year to do it on, besides odd expenses.” 
 
 Mrs. Butler got up ; she was shaken, and still out of 
 breath. 
 
 “ She is taking Dennis as head man,” said Sandy ; “ he 
 wants employment.” 
 
 “ As head man ? ” said Mrs. Butler blankly. 
 
 “ You were so much against the match,” said Sandy, “ or 
 she might have married him.” 
 
 Nora Acland came to the door and looked in. When she 
 had succeeded in finding out what had happened, and quite 
 finished laughing, she pointed to the clock. 
 
 “ Both motors,” she said, “ are waiting, and unless you 
 want to go round by the Fishguard route, we had better 
 start.” 
 
 “ My hat, Phillips,” cried out Sandy, “ and Miss Knox’s 
 hat, Phillips, and your own hat, Phillips. I cannot go 
 without a man in my present state of excitement.” 
 
 “ Certainly, sir,” said Phillips. “ Am quite ready, having 
 always understood that I was to go, sir. Perhaps better to 
 allow extra messenger the whisky now, sir, all opened 
 champagne being finished, sir.” 
 
 Outside Phillips’s voice was plainly heard calling out to 
 Delia that “ them two blighters were man and wife, and 
 that the horses would remain at Castleknock for ever.” 
 When the somewhat flurried start had taken place, Mrs. 
 Butler found herself proudly alone in her car. Her step- 
 
35 6 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 son had deserted her. Dermot had wired to say that he 
 would not go to the Hall Martens, as he was taking 
 Susannah to Liverpool. 
 
 Mrs. Butler looked furiously at Mollie when they got to 
 the station. 
 
 “ As head man,” she muttered, “ the minx ! ” 
 
 Mr. Allenbury announced that he was going straight to 
 Northlap. 
 
 u I will get every paper signed before Friday,” he said. 
 “ The abdication completed. I’ll leave nothing to chance, 
 and the falling of every horse except Pop-Gun.” 
 
 The day of the great race was actually fine. Cold, but 
 clear of hail storms and biting wind. Watson forgot Red 
 Fancy's leg when he heard the news. He said that, after 
 all, Nationals didn’t matter. And then he started. “For 
 I could swear I ’eard a chuckle,” he muttered. 
 
 Miss Hall Marten was looking quite bright in the 
 paddock at Liverpool. She greeted Mollie lovingly. 
 
 “ Marry him now, eh ? ” said Evelina. “Not a bad boy ; 
 amused me. Wish we could have a cigarette.” 
 
 Fop-Gun, parading with the rest of the horses, attracted 
 little notice. He was forty to one, offered, in the betting. 
 
 Now that Red Fancy was gone, the race seemed to lie 
 between Blue Gate, a slashing son of Walmsgates, and 
 White Cherry, the top weight. Blue Gate was favourite. 
 
 The going was particularly slimy and treacherous and 
 deep from recent rain, so that weight must tell against the 
 favourite ; he carried twelve stone. 
 
 The party from Castleknock were positively hilarious. 
 Allenbury had come back laden with signed papers^ and 
 resentment. He talked quite seriously of libel. 
 
 Hildebrand, it appeared, was spending his time taking 
 down all the pictures the old man had in his study, and 
 Araminta was pasting some coloured concoction on the 
 window of a room which she meant to make an oratory or 
 chapel of ; and they were both very cross. 
 
 Mollie trod not on paddock, walk, and turf, but on air, 
 
SANDY MARRIED 357 
 
 and whenever she met Mrs. Butler she talked pleasantly of 
 her head man. 
 
 There was a touch of pain, too, in her pleasure ; for 
 meeting with the elder of Greater Bethel, who had no 
 business to come racing, she told him gently, the truth, 
 and told it brokenly. 
 
 He took her hands in his. “ Little girls were not to fret. 
 If he could not try to make her happy, he would see some 
 one else do it, and see it gladly.” 
 
 “ Youth to youth,” said Mr. Grimes. “ My dear, I 
 presumed — an old fellow like me — it was because you 
 were alone ; but I presumed.” 
 
 “ But no,” said Mollie. “ No ! ” her eyes blurred with 
 tears. 
 
 “ I almost wish that I was forty,” sniffed Mollie to 
 Dennis. 
 
 But Dennis remarked firmly that he did not. 
 
 They gathered in the county stand for the big race 
 There was no Red Fancy now to make their hearts beat 
 anxiously ; only little, staid Pop-Gun to carry the blue- 
 and-silver somewhere in the background. 
 
 Just as the parade went past, Nora squeaked and pinched 
 Sandy’s arm. 
 
 “ Them ! ” she cried, absolutely disregarding her educa- 
 tion. “ Sandy ! Them ! See — there ! Here ! ” 
 
 Sandy looked, to see Hildebrand and Araminta, their 
 expressions chilly, unloverlike ; Araminta gorgeously 
 attired, and Hildebrand plainly out of temper and ill- 
 at-ease. 
 
 The bride and bridegroom struggled across to their late 
 host and hostess. 
 
 “ We would not stand it any longer,” snapped Araminta, 
 without preliminary greeting. “ It would have gone on for 
 ever. Mollie can mind those nasty oat-eating beasts, and 
 we are at least at Northlap. We have some things in 
 common,” said Araminta, looking blackly at her hus- 
 band. 
 
358 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 Hildebrand growled out that he had been dragged to 
 Aintree. 
 
 “ That,” said Sandy cheerfully, “ is a husband’s business, 
 to be dragged where he does not wish to go.” But Mr. 
 Acland’s side-glance at his wife was one of complete 
 understanding. 
 
 Hildebrand, seeing Susannah, turned purple. His sub- 
 sequent sotto voce remarks seemed to concern popinjays, 
 and dressed-up men dolls, and Irish worthlessness. 
 
 Susannah giggled, and remarked “ Oh, delightful ! ” to 
 the world in general. 
 
 Araminta’s next subject of conversation was vipers. 
 Vipers, with an emphasis. She launched bitterly forth 
 concerning Miss Brown. 
 
 “ A sly little mass of deceit,” stormed Araminta, “ under- 
 mining my Arthur’s love.” 
 
 “ But why poor little Brown ? ” Sandy asked his wife. 
 
 Nora replied dryly that Miss Brown was to be married to 
 Mr. Eustace in a month, and that a girl of six years old 
 would have seen what the governess meant when she 
 came to give notice. 
 
 Hildebrand turned to Mollie to tell her that she would 
 be very poor indeed when she took up the stud. 
 
 Mollie laughed joyously, as she replied that her new head 
 man would see to things. 
 
 “ And I can have all expenses besides,” she said. “ I am 
 going to race a lot in Ireland. Buy youngsters, and try 
 them, and so forth.” 
 
 Hildebrand and Araminta were one in bitter fear of 
 spirit. They would have to pay. 
 
 “ They’re off! ” said Dennis. 
 
 “ How delightful ! ” cried Susannah. She had never seen 
 a race. “ Where to ? Oh, there, on the track. Oh, isn’t 
 it delightful ? ” 
 
 Men talk of that National now as the race of disasters. 
 At the very first fence Blue Gate was stuck into and went 
 down. At the second the Rod, Eureka, and Kathleen 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 359 
 
 Agragh fell. Hackler’s Lad, a fancied light-weight, went 
 at Valentine’s Brook. 
 
 Of twenty-three starters only ten passed the stand at 
 the first round, and almost every horse which had been 
 favoured, except White Cherry, had disappeared. Whipping 
 them all in came Pop-Gun, galloping doggedly, fencing 
 perfectly, and fresh as when he started. He lessened the 
 gap between him and the leaders by a length as he swept 
 over the water, to lose it again as he plodded to the bend. 
 
 Of these ten only six came to the canal turn, and two of 
 these were hopelessly beaten. Pop-Gun was no longer 
 last. 
 
 White Cherry led, apparently with the race at his mercy. 
 Benvolio, a weedy outsider, was second, labouring behind 
 the big bay, and Merry Girl third, Pop-Gun next, 
 closing up. 
 
 The heavy going had told on White Cherry. Benvolio, 
 with nearly three stone in hand, closed and swerved into 
 him at the second last fence. The bump sent the big 
 horse blundering into the fence ; both horses went down 
 on their knees. Merry Girl had died away. Pop-Gun, 
 going as easily as when he had started, jumped past the 
 fallen two, Dayey, his rider’s, face alight. 
 
 Dayly sat still ; he knew the little horse was doing his 
 best. Pop-Gun swung into the straight with a lead of 
 twenty lengths, and a hush fell on the packed stands. 
 
 Would he be caught ? Tired, shaken, the other two 
 horses had been pulled to their feet and set going ; they 
 were racing up, catching the plodding little black. White 
 Cherry faltered and changed his stride. Benvolio forged 
 ahead. White Cherry came again gallantly, his stamina 
 telling, up to Pop-Gun’s quarters, to his girths, his shoulder. 
 The roar from the stands shook the air, and so far Dayly 
 had never moved. 
 
 Then he made his , effort The spurs went home ; with 
 hands and heels he called on the black for the little piece 
 of extra speed which he did not possess. But Pop-Gun 
 
3 < 5 ° 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 was fresh. Lifted with a frenzy of determination, the horse 
 shot out with his whole game heart ; the bay head lay at 
 his shoulder still. 
 
 The post flashed. Pop-Gun had won the Grand 
 National. The blue-and-silver had come home at last. 
 
 And Sandy swears to it still, that just behind them 
 echoed a dry chuckle of contentment. 
 
 “ Get down to lead her in,” wSandy cried to Mollie. 
 “ No, Hildebrand, he’s not yours to-day. Come, Mollie, 
 run ! ” 
 
 “ But — he has won,” said Mollie blankly, she was sway- 
 ing, her face white. “ He has won. I shall have no stud 
 to keep now.” 
 
 “ Araminta has fainted,” said Nora. 
 
 “ Let her faint,” said Sandy, dragging Mollie through 
 the crowd. 
 
 Mollie was in time to put her hand on Pop-Gun's bridle, 
 to try to smile at Dayly, though all her castle in the air 
 was in ruins. The race was over — won. She was no 
 longer owner of the stud. The horses would be sold — all 
 except the old favourites, and she thought there might 
 be something — but not those thousands a year, and 
 Dennis. 
 
 “The girl's crying,” said a racing man, watching Mollie. 
 “ Crying over a piece of the most unholy luck. A hearse 
 horse which ought to have been last. Everything decent 
 down. White Cherry wouldn’t have seen Blue Gate 
 win.” 
 
 Mr. Watson had got his legacy. The lodge in Scotland 
 and ten thousand pounds came to Sandy. Already he 
 had whispered to his wife that they must give half to 
 Mollie. “ We can invent some deed,” he muttered, 
 “can’t we?” 
 
 “ Araminta,” said Nora, “ was still fainting when I left 
 her. She used to come round to tell Hildebrand that she 
 would never forgive him for blighting her life out of pique 
 and jealousy, and impatience, and she used to go off again. 
 
SANDY MARRIED 361 
 
 They have a doctor there who is afraid she’ll slap him if 
 he says aloud that she is conscious,” 
 
 “ And Hildebrand ? ” Sandy asked. 
 
 “ Gives as good as he gets, and mentions Arthur Eustace 
 in response,” chuckled Nora. 
 
 “ She is fainting still,” said Susannah, coming up. “ And 
 so crossly. Oh, delightful ! ” 
 
 Mollie sat upon a bench and watched the crowd surge 
 by. Joy had been swept from her too swiftly. 
 
 There was some small pension for the old horses — but 
 nothing to marry on. 
 
 Mrs. Butler, seeing her alone, came up to sympathize 
 unkindly. 
 
 “ Dennis,” she said, “ is so happy at dear Evelina’s. 
 He sang for us last night. You won’t want him now, 
 Miss Knox.” 
 
 Mollie was too broken to answer. 
 
 “But — that was last night,” said Miss Hall Marten, 
 quietly ; she stooped over sad little Mollie. 
 
 “ I’m going to be married to a barrister and live in 
 London,” she whispered. “ Only place one keeps 
 awake in.” 
 
 But Evelina Hall Marten ooked just a little wistfully at 
 Dennis Butler, and she omitted to mention that the barrister 
 was as yet unaware of his good fortune. 
 
 To win a National and feel doleful over it is positively 
 unnatural, yet the party going back to the hotel would 
 have been happier if Pop-Gun had remained where he 
 ought to have been, about tenth or twelfth. 
 
 “ And I’d just swear I heard a chuckle,” said Watson, 
 when he bade them good-bye, “ right in my ear, an’ we 
 leadin’ the ’oss in.” 
 
 He had wired the good news to Delia. Watson was 
 now an affluent man, free to mind the old favourites until 
 they died, or to start a training-stable of his own. 
 
 They went back to Ireland next morning. The letter 
 which had to be opened, was in safe keeping at Sandy’s 
 
3 62 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 bank. To Nora’s horror, the bride and bridegroom came 
 with them. They would stop at Cahervalley, but they 
 would not have any documents opened in their absence. 
 Who knew what it might be ? 
 
 No sulkier newly married pair ever drove forth to 
 Castleknock from Cara station. 
 
 “ Easy knowin’ their coortin’ days is done,” the driver 
 confided to Mikkelo, who was greatly depressed, and replied 
 that there was some would even coort bither. 
 
 The seals were broken, the papers taken out. Mollie, 
 pale and depressed, sat listlessly in the window. 
 
 Then came a sudden, unlawyer-like shout. 
 
 “ He didn’t chuckle for nothing,” said Allenbury 
 suddenly, completely forgetting his business position. 
 
 “ No, by Gad ! not for nothing. It’s a codicil. It’s 
 
 Oh, listen ! ” he burst out. “ Listen, Miss Knox, it’s all 
 for you. Oh, prop up Mrs. Hannyside ; she’s going to faint 
 again.” 
 
 With legal jargon set aside, it was concise. It made 
 provision for Miss Knox ; it doubled that provision if the 
 cousins had not allowed her a hundred a year. And then, 
 it went on, If Reginald Hannyside’s wishes were set 
 aside by his nephew and niece, if they married before the 
 first National following his decease, and gave up the stud, 
 they were to have a sum of forty thousand pounds to live 
 on, an ample sum for an economical pair. Northlap was to 
 be sold, his jewels and the residue of the estate to pass to 
 Mary Knox. Other legacies stood as in his former will. 
 
 “That’s all. Miss Knox is to be congratulated,” said 
 Allenbury quietly. “ The residue means a very large sum. 
 Don’t faint again, Mrs. Hannyside.” 
 
 For a moment there was silence, even Araminta made 
 no sound, then a girl with shining eyes sprang to her 
 feet wildly. 
 
 “ Send for Dennis,” she said. “ Call Phillips— send for 
 Dennis ! ” 
 
 “ Mr. Butler, miss, is here,” said Phillips, as he answered 
 
SANDY MARRIED 
 
 363 
 
 ' 
 
 l with curious celerity. Any person standing outside by the 
 laurels could hear all that went on in the morning-room 
 at Castleknock. 
 
 The others found their voices. 
 
 “ And if we had waited,” Araminta wailed, “ waited for 
 1 three days.” She rushed round the room, screaming, slapped 
 her husband hysterically, and rushed again. 
 
 “If they ’ad, I believe as ’ow the old master would have 
 pulled the horse himself,” confided Watson softly to 
 Phillips. 
 
 They were both looking for something in the laurel 
 bushes, and overheard everything. 
 
 “And instead, we — we — are — are ” moaned Araminta, 
 
 rushing on. 
 
 “ Married ! ” shrieked Hildebrand and Araminta 
 together. 
 
 For quite five minutes they raved at Allenbury and 
 Mollie as plotters and schemers. Then they flung out of 
 the room, demanding the hired car from Cara. 
 
 Dennis Butler and Mollie had slipped together to the 
 sheltered spring garden. With scent of wallflowers and 
 hyacinths in their nostrils, they looked across the country to 
 the misty hills. To the west in a nest of trees lay Dennis’s 
 house. These two young people would rob the world of 
 an unfair share of happiness. 
 
 The scuffling exit of Watson from the laurels did not 
 disturb them in the least. They stood hand in hand, 
 bewildered by this second stroke of good fortune. 
 
 “ And my stepmother,” said Dennis. “ Oh, Mollie, 
 how she will regret not having allowed Dermot to make 
 love to you.” 
 
 “ He might have made it,” said Miss Knox equably. 
 
 As they stood silent, Mikkelo’s voice, raised in sorrow, 
 came clearly from the field, where he was working at 
 the gate. 
 
 “ I’d put no reliance in them signs, I till ye, Mr. Watson, 
 niver agin. Didn’t Hannan an’ meself tiren out our eyes 
 
3^4 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 searchin’ for a name to do with sperrits, and didn’t we put 
 five shillin’ on Brandy Ball, a schemer that niver even 
 stharted, an’ a foreign sthamp as well, that Hannan paid 
 for, God be praised. An’ there’s signs for ye. Into yer 
 socket now, an’ don’t be troublin’ me ! ” — this to the gate. 
 “ Oh, be the hevins above us, sir, but mightn’t them two 
 have been soaked in vinegar ? ” He referred to Mr. 
 and Mrs. Hannyside, who were leaving. “ What is troublin’ 
 them now ? ” 
 
 Mikkelo heard the good news. He let the gate fall and 
 smiled with complete content. 
 
 “ Be dam to me half-crown,” said Mikkelo joyously. 
 “ Won’t I often get it an’ the double from Miss Mollie.” 
 
 As they clambered upon the car, Hildebrand and 
 Araminta informed Mr. Allenbury that they would employ 
 their own lawyer. They were done with people who 
 schemed and plotted. 
 
 “ I will send in my account to your man,” said Allenbury 
 gravely. 
 
 “ A little dissatisfied with life, sir,” said Phillips, as he 
 watched the departure. The car had one spring half worn 
 down, so that Araminta clung on near the road, and 
 Hildebrand was elevated high in the air. “ A little dis- 
 satisfied with life, sir,” said Phillips. 
 
 Nora came out with an open fly book in her hand. She 
 slipped the other hand through Sandy’s arm. 
 
 “ Oh, it seems so funny to see them married,” she said. 
 
 “ It — serves — them — both — right,” said Sandy, em- 
 phatically. 
 
 Printed by HazelL Watson < 5 ^ Viney , Ld ., London and Aylesbury 
 
AUTUMN 1913 
 
 METHUEN’S 
 POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 Grown 8vo, 6s. each 
 
 THE WAY OF AMBITION 
 
 By Robert Hichens, Author of ‘ The Garden of Allah.’ 
 
 This is a study of the effect produced in the life of an unambitious man 
 by an ambitious girl, afflicted with the uneasy desire for notoriety so 
 characteristic of the present time. The man is a composer of music, with 
 no love of general society and no wish to stand in the glare of a popular 
 fame. He cares only for his work, not for any rewards it might bring in. 
 The story shows his life before, and his life after, marriage, and the scene 
 is laid in London, near Algiers, and in New York. 
 
 THE JUDGMENT HOUSE 
 
 By Sir Gilbert Parker, Author of ‘The Seats of the 
 Mighty.’ 
 
 Of all the books written by Sir Gilbert Parker, not excepting The Seats 
 of the Mighty , The Right of Way and The Weavers , his new novel, The 
 Judgment House , dealing with life in England at the time of the Jameson 
 Raid, and shifting to South Africa in the time of the war, shows most 
 powerfully his knowledge of the human heart and all those tragedies and 
 comedies of existence which lie far beneath the surface of experience. 
 With a greater knowledge, and an equally greater sympathy than he has 
 ever shown, he bares the truth of a woman’s life, and strikes as poignant 
 a note as may be found in all modern literature. From the first page to 
 the last the book moves with a spirit, a dramatic interest, and an 
 arresting truthfulness greater than the author has ever before shown. 
 There is one chapter in the book which contains a situation absolutely 
 new, and which would make the fortune of any play. 
 
 THE REGENT 
 
 By Arnold Bennett, Author of * Clayhanger.’ 
 
 In his new novel Mr. Bennett brings Edward Henry Machin (the 
 familiar ‘ Card 9 of the Five Towns) up to London on a rather adventurous 
 theatrical enterprise — he, in fact, builds and runs a theatre — and the 
 peculiar Five Towns temperament is thus displayed in full contrast with 
 the quite different temperament of arihtic and social London. Both the 
 London and the provincial scenes are treated in the same vein of humorous 
 realism which distinguished Mr. Bennett’s previous novel, The Card. Not 
 the least important among the feats of the hero is a flying trip to the 
 United States. At the end of the story, although Alderman Machin has 
 carried his enterprise to a most successful conclusion, and in a double 
 sense finds all London at his feet, he decides that for his own private 
 purposes the metropolis is an inferior place to the Five Towns — and acts 
 accordingly. 
 
2 
 
 METHUEN’S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 CHANCE 
 
 By Joseph Conrad, Author of ‘The Nigger of the 
 
 “ Narcissus.” ’ 
 
 THE GOVERNOR OF ENGLAND 
 
 By Marjorie Bowen, Author of ‘ I Will Maintain. 1 
 
 The story opens in the fields outside St. Ives, where a gentleman fanner, 
 Oliver Cromwell, struggling with religious melancholy, becomes convinced 
 that he is to be raised up for God’s work. The next chapters deal with 
 the dramatic prologue to the Civil War, the fall of the great Strafford 
 and his desertion by the King. Cromwell then steps forward to defy 
 Charles by demanding that the power of the sword be vested in the 
 Parliament, and the first part ends with the King raising the royal 
 standard at Nottingham. The second and third parts deal with the first 
 and second Civil War, ending with the death of the King. The fourth 
 part opens with the election of Cromwell as ‘ Governor of England ’ and 
 closes with his death, on the anniversary of Dunbar and Worcester. 
 
 THE GOLDEN BARRIER 
 
 By Agnes and Egerton Castle, Authors of ‘ If Youth 
 
 but Knew/ 
 
 The main theme of this romance is the situation created by the marriage 
 — a marriage of love — of a comparatively poor man, proud, chivalrous 
 and tender, to a wealthy heiress : a girl of refined and generous instincts, 
 but something of a wayward ‘spoilt child,’ loving to use the power which 
 her fortune gives her to play the Lady Maecenas to a crowd of impecunious 
 flatterers, fortune hunters, and unrecognised geniuses. On a critical 
 occasion, thwarted in one of her mad schemes of patronage by her husband, 
 who tries to clear her society of these sycophants and parasites, she 
 petulantly taunts him with having been a poor man himself who, happily, 
 married money. Outraged in his love and pride, he offers her the choice 
 of coming to share his poverty or of living on, alone, amid her luxuries. 
 There begins a conflict of wills between these two, who remain in love 
 with each other — prolonged naturally, and embittered, by the efforts of 
 the interested hangers-on to keep the inconvenient husband out of Lady 
 Maecenas' house — but ending in a happy surrender on both sides. 
 
 THE FLYING INN 
 
 By G. K. Chesterton. 
 
 THE WAY HOME 
 
 By the Author of c The Wild Olive/ 
 
 This is the story, minutely and understandingly told, of a sinner, his life 
 and death. He is an ordinary man and no hero, and the final issue raised 
 concerns the right of one who has persistently disregarded religion during 
 his strength in accepting its consolations when his end is near : a question 
 of interest to every one. The book, however, is not a tract, but a very 
 real novel. 
 
METHUEN’S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 3 
 
 THE MORNING’S WAR 
 
 By C. E. Montague, Author of ‘A Hind Let Loose/ 
 
 The love story of a young Anglo-Irish man and woman, both of high 
 spirit, courage, and generosity. It opens with an exciting experience in 
 the Alps, and is carried on through many adventures, of the body or the 
 mind, among the Surrey hills, in the Northern England of smoke and 
 moorland, and on the Western Irish coast, where the discovery of a 
 strange impediment to their union leads to new vicissitudes of peril and 
 hope that leave the issue still in the balance till the end of the last 
 chapter. 
 
 A NEW NOVEL 
 
 By ‘Q’ (Sir Arthur T. Quiller-Couch), Author of 
 
 ‘ The Mayor of Troy.’ 
 
 BELOW STAIRS 
 
 By Mrs. A. Sidgwick, Author of * Lamorna/ 
 
 This, as the title indicates, is a story of servant life. It follows the 
 fortunes of Priscilla Day, who begins as a little morning drudge and in 
 time becomes a trained parlour-maid. Her working experiences and her 
 love affairs are both kept in view, and the author tries to describe them 
 from the girl’s standpoint, but without bias either for servants or against 
 them. 
 
 THE SEA CAPTAIN 
 
 By H. C. Bailey, Author of ‘ The Lonely Queen/ 
 
 One of the great company of Elizabethan seamen is the hero of this 
 novel. There is, however, no attempt at glorifying him or his comrades. 
 Mr. Bailey has endeavoured to mingle realism with the romance of the 
 time. Captain Rymingtowne is presented as no crusader, but something 
 of a merchant, something of an adventurer, and a little of a pirate. He 
 has nothing to do with the familiar tales of the Spanish main and the 
 Indies. His voyages were to the Mediterranean when the Moorish 
 corsairs were at the height of their power, and of them and their great 
 leaders Kheyr~6d-din Barbarossa and Dragut Reis the story has much to 
 tell. Captain Rymingtowne was concerned in the famous Moorish raid 
 to capture the most beautiful woman in Europe, and in the amazing affair 
 of the Christian prisoners at Alexandria. The author has tried to present 
 with historical truth many unfamiliar phases of the life of the time, in an 
 English countryside, on shipboard, and in the turbulent warfare of the 
 Mediterranean, but the book is essentially a story of adventure. 
 
 SANDY MARRIED 
 
 By Dorothea Conyers, Author of 4 Sally/ 
 
 This is a sequel to Mrs. Conyers’ famous book, Strayings of Sandy . 
 It tells of Sandy married, his life in Ireland, and the amusing complications 
 which arise when he is left guardian of two young and unsporting people, 
 Araminta and Hildebrand, who against their wishes have to keep a racing 
 
4 
 
 METHUEN’S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 stable and win the Grand National or marry before they can claim their 
 uncle’s large fortune. Sandy’s keeping of their racing stud and hunters 
 and his final triumph in getting rid of his obnoxious charges makes the 
 plot of the book. ‘ Phillips/ his valet, is as much to the fore as in the 
 
 Strayings of Sandy. 
 
 THE SECOND-CLASS PASSENGER 
 
 By Perceval Gibbon, Author of ‘Margaret Harding/ 
 The story from which this volume takes its title is that by which 
 Mr. Gibbon is best known. The book presents a representative selection 
 of the work of what Punch has called ‘ one of the best living short story 
 writers/ 
 
 THE REMINGTON SENTENCE 
 
 By W. Pett Ridge, Author of ‘ Devoted Sparkes/ 
 
 In his new novel Mr. Pett Ridge describes the experiences of a family 
 brought up amid leisurely and easy surroundings in the country, and directed 
 to earn their living in town. The opening stages take place in Chalk 
 Farm, and the way that each of the Remingtons is affected by the 
 * sentence ’ is told in Mr. Pett Ridge’s happy and vivacious manner. 
 
 THE SUMMER LADY 
 
 By Mrs. George Norman, Author of ‘Lady Fanny/ 
 
 This story tells how a rather friendless young man, returning from 
 Rhodesia, with money, takes a wooden hut for the summer upon the cliffs 
 he remembers as a child. There his solitude is romantically disturbed 
 by a Lady. Their acquaintance, somewhat unconventionally, ripens. She 
 is not, as he thought, unmarried, but the chatelaine of the manor house 
 owned by a quite elderly if charming man. The story of the younger 
 couple develops to a logical conclusion. 
 
 ONCE, OF THE ANGELS. 
 
 By Evelyn Beacon. 
 
 In this story, by a passionately sincere lover of purity, an appeal is made 
 for the better instruction of our daughters, that they may be the better 
 safeguarded against certain of the dangers of life. The subject is a 
 delicate one, but the author has brought to it devotion and conviction. 
 
 THE LITTLE NUGGET 
 
 By P. G. Wodehouse. 
 
 When Elmer Ford, the American millionaire, obtained his incom- 
 patibility-of- temperament divorce from Mrs. Elmer Ford, the court gave 
 him custody of Ogden, their twelve-year-old son, whom he proceeded 
 to place at a private school in England. How Ogden became the ‘ Little 
 Nugget/ the greatest prize open to members of the kidnapping profession, 
 the story proceeds to show. 
 
METHUEN’S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 5 
 
 THE TWO KISSES 
 
 By Oliver Onions, Author of ‘Good Boy Seldom. 1 
 
 One of these kisses is given to Amory Towers, Bohemian and artist, the 
 other was given by her. In a former novel the author depicted the life of 
 the cheaper studios as it is lived by men ; here he treats of that life as a 
 woman-artist experiences it. The position of women in the Arts to-day 
 receives some consideration in the book, and, parallel with that of Amory 
 herself, there runs the story of her friend, studio companion and fellow- 
 student at the McGrath School of Art. x The Two Kisses may be described 
 as a comedy, and contains the history of a very modern courtship indeed. 
 
 TIDE MARKS 
 
 By Margaret Westrup (Mrs. W. Sydney Stacey), 
 
 Author of ‘ Elizabeth in Retreat.’ 
 
 Yet another of the many recent novels which have Cornwall for a 
 background. The heroine is the child of a gipsy mother and an ascetic 
 poet, and the theme of the story is the wilful avoidance of love by this 
 girl. 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A FEW DAYS 
 
 By Putnam Weale, Author of ‘The Revolt.’ 
 
 This story treats of the subtle adventures of a young Englishman, 
 Richard Faulconbridge, in the strangely fascinating city of Moscow, where 
 the medievalism of the Kremlin is contrasted with a wildly modern note, 
 probably unequalled elsewhere in Europe. A broad vein of romance runs 
 through these stirring pages. The figure of a Polish girl forms a tantalis- 
 ing and captivating element, and in her company are a number of others 
 who serve to throw into relief the curious plot of the book. 
 
 MAN AND WOMAN 
 
 By L. G. Moberly. 
 
 This story, which is based upon Tennyson's lines — 
 
 “The woman’s cause is man’s, they rise or fall together” — 
 has for its chief character a woman who takes the feminist view that man 
 is the enemy ; a view from which she is ultimately converted. Another 
 
 E rominent character is one whose love is given to a weak man, her axiom 
 eing that love takes no heed of the worthiness or unworthiness of its 
 object. The scene is laid partly in London, partly in a country cottage, 
 and partly in India during the Durbar of the King- Emperor. 
 
 WHAT IS LOVE ? 
 
 By David Lisle, Author of ‘A Painter of Souls,’ ‘A 
 Kingdom Divided.’ 
 
 Mr. Lisle’s new novel may be regarded as a sequel to his successful 
 Painter of Souls , since the heroine of What is Love ? is the daughter of 
 Miles Dering and Violet Hilliard. In this book we find brilliant and 
 daringly intimate descriptions of theatre-life in Paris. A famous French 
 actress is the friend and patron of Isola Dering, and Mr. Lisle displays 
 remarkable knowledge of behind-the-scenes life on the Paris stage in 
 his delineation of ‘ La Belle Gerome’s ’ character and career. 
 
6 
 
 METHUEN’S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF DR. FU-MANCHU 
 
 By Sax Rohmer. 
 
 The epic of the most resourceful, brilliant and sinister malefactor 
 yet created. Through River Police depots, an opium den in Shadwell, 
 great hotels, the Arabian Nights abode of the Chinese doctor, the float- 
 ing laboratory on the lower Thames, the family vault of Lord Southery, 
 and many another scene, we follow the dark elusive figure of the terrible 
 Fu-Manchu, ‘lord of strange deaths.’ In the dim background flit ever 
 the companion figures of his creatures, the stranglers. Above all rises 
 the call of the dacoit : whilst through the yellow phantasmagoria glides 
 a seductive personality, ‘Karamaneh,’ the lovely Eastern slave who plays 
 such havoc with the heart of Dr. Petrie. 
 
 SWIRLING WATERS 
 
 By Max Rittenberg, Author of ‘The Mind-Reader.’ 
 
 This is a story of the whirlpool of finance. Clifford Matheson, a 
 successful financier, is soub weary of the life, and tries to cut loose and 
 start a fresh existence. He is drawn back to the whirlpool by an en- 
 tanglement in a huge scheme engineered by a millionaire shipowner 
 (a vivid study of the Napoleonic temperament) ; and Matheson’s wife and 
 the girl he falls in love with in his second existence contend for him. 
 The book starts with a dramatic conflict between Matheson and the 
 shipowner, and continues in the atmosphere of tension right to the end. 
 
 THE GATE OF HORN 
 
 By Beulah Marie Dix. 
 
 It is through the Gate of Horn that true dreams come, and they were 
 true dreams that came to Sydney Considine. Through her childhood and 
 her girlhood she has known in her dreams places and people that were 
 unfamiliar to her waking hours. In early womanhood she left her 
 American home for a visit in Cornwall, and there she found the scene 
 of her dream life, and met the man who had shared it with her. The 
 rest of the story tells how they made reality of unreality. 
 
 THE LODGER 
 
 By Mrs. Belloc Lowndes. 
 
 In her new long novel, Mrs. Belloc Lowndes shows the same mastery of 
 the art of thrilling that she showed both in The Chink in the Armour , and 
 in her short stories Studies in Love and in Terror . The Lodger suggests 
 a solution of the most dreadful and baffling of all the unsolved murder 
 mysteries in English criminal annals, but the story is relieved by humour, 
 observation of human nature, and a pretty love interest. 
 
METHUEN’S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 7 
 
 SHALLOWS 
 
 By Frederick Watson. 
 
 There is an episode in Jacobite history that has probably never been 
 treated in fiction, and was only known within recent years through the 
 brilliant research of Mr. Andrew Lang. The Elibank plot and the tragedy 
 of Archibald Cameron lay ready to the novelist’s hand, and it has remained 
 for Mr. Frederick Watson, a son of Ian Maclaren, to set this sombre 
 background to a study of character. In Ethlenn Murdoch the mystery 
 of inevitable misfortune is played, and the linking of her fate and that 
 of Charles Edward Stewart is accomplished. The story is full of incident, 
 breaks new ground, and is charged with the atmosphere of twilight, the 
 time of shadow's and falling darkness, 
 
 THAT WHICH WAS WRITTEN 
 
 By Sybil Cormack Smith. 
 
 This story, the work of one of the increasing band of South African 
 writers, is written round the secret tragedy of a woman’s life, the action 
 of fate in revealing that secret, and the ultimate triumph of love in 
 disregarding the revelation. In the vivid, romantic setting of 
 the veld , strong situations and characters are evolved, and the climax 
 is reached when two men come to grips in the fight for a woman’s 
 soul. 
 
 MISS NOBODY 
 
 By Ethel Carnie, Author of ‘ Songs of a Factory Girl.’ 
 
 A story of modern working class life, laid partly in Manchester city and 
 partly in a green country place skirting its greyness. The heroine, with no 
 heritage but that of grit, grace, and gumption, marries to escape a life of 
 drudgery She finds that struggle and pain dwell also in the country. 
 The scorn of the country-people drives her back, alone, to her own place. 
 Passing through many phases, meeting many people, she learns all the 
 sweetness and bitterness of playing a lone hand. 
 
 STEMPENYU 
 
 By Shalom Aleichem. Translated from the Yiddish 
 by Hannah Berman. 
 
 The hero of this very curious Jewish romance is a wandering musician 
 of many romantic adventures, who w r as caught, as in a trap, by a woman 
 w*ith whom he has nothing in common. Too late, he meets his affinity 
 in the pure young girl, Rachel. The pen pictures of the quaint village 
 folks are illumined by countless flashes of humour. A vein of tenderness 
 and pity for Stempenyu no less than for Rachel runs through the 
 book ; and over all hovers the spirit of geniality and kindliness. Its 
 profound sincerity, its keen insight, and its accurate characterisation lift 
 the book far above the commonplaceness and banalities of the average 
 novel. 
 
3 
 
 METHUEN’S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 THE WHITE THREAD 
 
 By Robert Halifax, Author of ‘ A Whistling Woman.’ 
 
 A book which is practically certain to arrest a serious consideration, 
 both lay and medical. Tilly Westaway herself — the lovable, human little 
 heroine with her secret maternal longings and her desire to ‘put every- 
 thing right for everybody * — makes a curiously moving appeal all the way. 
 But it is the vast shadow in the background — the menace of the ever- 
 absorbing, ever-expanding lunatic asylum ward — which will remain in 
 one’s mind long after the book is laid down. If Robert Halifax has not 
 struck here an entirely new note in fiction, it may well be that, in view 
 of a ‘ Mental Deficients’ ’ Bill now before the country, he has struck one 
 that will be heard far and wide. 
 
 LOVE’S APPRENTICESHIP 
 
 By Mabel Sprent. 
 
 The story of a little wild bush girl, and how she hears the mysterious 
 voices of the great world calling to her. She leaves the solitude of her 
 home in the wilderness and, driven by a hitherto starved passion for 
 worldly experience, joins recklessly in the chase after sensation and 
 pleasure. The story concerns itself with the action and reactions between 
 sophisticated life, conventional adventure, and a natural young person who 
 grew to womanhood without knowledge of these things. 
 
 A GODDESS OF STONE 
 
 By R. W. Wright Henderson, Author of ‘John 
 Goodchild.’ 
 
 The scene of this romance is on the south coast, and the date of it is 
 1793, in the brave days of smuggling and rumours of invasion. It is told 
 in the first person, being the recollection of events witnessed by one 
 Thomas How when an innocent boy of eight. A miser, some smugglers, 
 an emigre, an old housekeeper, and others are those whose fortunes he, 
 and a marble statue, silently watch, and in part direct. 
 
 KNOCKINSCREEN DAYS 
 
 By Jackson C. Clark. With 4 Illustrations by A. E. 
 Horne. 
 
 In this story Mr. ‘Peter’ Carmichel, who lives near the Ulster village 
 ot Knockinscreen, relates humorously *the circumstances attending the 
 arrival of an erratic friend and their somewhat unusual methods of 
 canvassing in the election of the Ballyraffin dispensary doctor, which 
 involve the discomfiture of the Royal Irish Constabulary. The assistance 
 of a local blacksmith is requisitioned at the eleventh hour, and in the 
 concluding chapters he narrates the result of his electioneering efforts. 
 There are incidental descriptions of a local football match contested on 
 Homeric lines and the celebration of St. Patrick’s Day. Jimmy M‘Gaw, 
 a manservant with original ideas, enlivens things more than a little. 
 
A SELECTION OF BOOKS 
 PUBLISHED BY METHUEN 
 AND CO. LTD.. LONDON 
 
 36 ESSEX 
 W 
 
 General Literature . 
 
 CON 
 
 PAGE 
 . 2 
 
 Ancient Cities. . . 
 
 . 
 
 12 
 
 Antiquary’s Books. 
 
 . 
 
 12 
 
 Arden Shakespeare 
 
 . 
 
 13 
 
 Classics of Art 
 
 • 
 
 13 
 
 “ Complete ” Series 
 
 • 
 
 13 
 
 Connoisseur’s Library . 
 
 
 M 
 
 Handbooks of English Church 
 History 
 
 
 Handbooks of Theology 
 
 . 
 
 14 
 
 “ Home Life ” Series 
 
 
 M 
 
 Illustrated Pocket Library of 
 Plain and Coloured Books 
 
 15 
 
 Leaders of Religion . 
 
 
 15 
 
 Library of Devotion 
 
 
 l6 
 
 Little Books on Art 
 
 
 l6 
 
 Little Galleries 
 
 
 17 
 
 Little Guides . 
 
 
 17 
 
 Little Library . • 
 
 
 18 
 
 JULY 
 
 STREET 
 
 C. 
 
 ENTS 
 
 Little Quarto Shakespeare 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 19 
 
 Miniature Library 
 
 
 19 
 
 New Library of Medicine 
 
 
 19 
 
 New Library of Music 
 
 
 19 
 
 Oxford Biographies 
 
 
 19 
 
 Three Plays 
 
 
 20 
 
 States of Italy 
 
 
 20 
 
 Westminster Commentaries 
 
 20 
 
 “ Young 99 Series . 
 
 
 20 
 
 Shilling Library 
 
 
 21 
 
 Books for Travellers 
 
 
 21 
 
 Some Books on Art. • 
 
 
 21 
 
 Some Books on Italy • 
 
 
 22 
 
 Fiction .... 
 
 
 23 
 
 Two-Shilling Novels . 
 
 
 27 
 
 Books for Boys and Girls 
 
 
 27 
 
 Shilling Novels 
 
 
 28 
 
 Novels of Alexandre Dumas 
 
 28 
 
 Sixpenny Books * . 
 
 • 
 
 29 
 
 1912 
 
A SELECTION OF 
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN’S 
 
 PUBLICATIONS 
 
 In this Catalogue the order is according to authors. An asterisk denotes 
 that the book is in the press. 
 
 Colonial Editions are published of all Messrs. Methuen’s Novels issued 
 at a price above as. 6</., and similar editions are published of some works of 
 General Literature. Colonial editions are only for circulation in the British 
 Colonies and India. 
 
 All books marked net are not subject to discount, and cannot be bought 
 at less than the published price. Books not marked net are subject to the 
 discount which the bookseller allows. 
 
 Messrs. Methuen’s books are kept in stock by all good booksellers. If 
 there is any difficulty in seeing copies, Messrs. Methuen will be very glad to 
 have early information, and specimen copies of any books will be sent on 
 receipt of the published price plus postage for net books, and of the published 
 price for ordinary books. 
 
 This Catalogue contains only a selection of the more important books 
 published by Messrs. Methuen. A complete and illustrated catalogue of their 
 publications may be obtained on application. 
 
 Andrewes (Lancelot). PRECES PRI- 
 VATAE. Translated and edited, with 
 Notes, by F. E. Brightman. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Aristotle. THE ETHICS. Edited, with 
 an Introduction and Notes, by John 
 Burnet. Demy 8vo. 10 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Atkinson (C.T.). A HISTORY OF GER- 
 MANY, 1715-1815. Demy 8 vo. 12 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Atkinson (T. D.). ENGLISH ARCHI- 
 TECTURE. Illustrated. Fcap. Svo. ^s.6d. 
 net. 
 
 A GLOSSARY OF TERMS USED IN 
 ENGLISH ARCHITECTURE. Illus- 
 trated. Second Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 3 s. 6d. 
 net. 
 
 ENGLISH AND WELSH CATHEDRALS. 
 Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Bain (F. W.). A DIGIT OF THE 
 MOON : A Hindoo Love Story. Ninth 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. as. 6 d. net. 
 
 THE DESCENT OF THE SUN : A Cycle 
 of Birth. Fifth Edition. Fcap. 8z >0. 
 V. 6d. net. 
 
 A HEIFER OF THE DAWN. Seventh 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 2 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 IN THE GREAT GOD’S HAIR. Fifth 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 2 s. 6d. net. 
 
 A DRAUGHT OF THE BLUE. Fourth 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. as. 6 d. net. 
 
 AN ESSENCE OF THE DUSK. Third 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. as. 6d. vet. 
 
 AN INCARNATION OF THE SNOW. 
 
 Second Edition. Fcap. Svo. 3^. 6d. net. 
 
 A MINE OF FAULTS. Second Edition. 
 
 Fcap. 8 vo. 3 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 THE ASHES OF A GOD. Fcap. 8vo. 
 3-r. 6 d. net. 
 
 •BUBBLES OF THE FOAM. Fcap 4 to. 
 5 J. net. Also Fcap. 8vo. 3$. 6d. net. 
 
 Balfour (Graham). THE LIFE OF 
 ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Illus- 
 trated. Fifth Edition in one Volume. 
 Cr. Svo. Buckram , 6s. Also Fcap. 8 vo. 
 1 s. net. 
 
 Baring; (Hon. Maurice). A YEAR IN 
 
 RUSSIA. Second Edition. Demy 8 vo. 
 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 LANDMARKS IN RUSSIAN LITERA- 
 TURE. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 
 6s. 7 iet. 
 
 RUSSIAN ESSAYS AND STORIES. 
 
 Second Edition. Crown 8 vo. 5-r. net. 
 THE RUSSIAN PEOPLE. Demy 8 vo. 
 15 s. net. 
 
 Baring-Gould (S.). THE LIFE OF 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Royal Svo. xos. 6 d. net. 
 
General Literature 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF THE CVESARS : 
 A Study of the Characters of the 
 CAESARS OF THE JULIAN AND Cl.AUDIAN 
 Houses. Illustrated. Seventh Edition . 
 Royal Zvo. io s. 6 d. net. 
 
 THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW. With 
 a Portrait. Third Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 3 s. 6 d. 
 *A Iso Reap. 8 vo. is. net. 
 
 OLD COUNTRY LIFE. Illustrated. Fifth 
 1 Edition. Large Cr. 85 vo. 6 s. 
 
 A BOOK OF CORNWALL. Illustrated. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6r. 
 
 A BOOK OF DARTMOOR. Illustrated. 
 
 I Second Edition . Cr. 8z >0. 6 s. 
 
 A BOOK OF DEVON. Illustrated. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 Baring-Gould (S.) and Sheppard (H. 
 Fleetwood). A GARLAND OF 
 COUNTRY SONG. English Folic Songs 
 with their Traditional Melodies, Demy +to. 
 6 s. 
 
 SONGS OF THE WEST: Folk Songs of 
 Devon and Cornwall. Collected from the 
 Mouths of the People. New and Revised 
 Edition, under the musical editorship of 
 Cecil J. Sharp. Large hnperial 8 vo. 
 5 s. net. 
 
 Barker (E.). THE POLITICAL 
 THOUGHT OF PLATO AND ARIS- 
 TOTLE. Demy 8 vo. ray. 6 d. net. 
 
 Bastable (C. F.). THE COMMERCE 
 OF NATIONS. Fi/th Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 
 2 S. 6 d. 
 
 Beckford (Peter). THOUGHTS ON 
 HUNTING. Edited by J. Otho Paget. 
 Illustrated. Third Edition. Demy Zvo. 6 s. 
 
 Belloe (H.). PARIS. Illustrated. Second 
 Edition, Revised. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 HILLS AND THE SEA. Fourth Edition. 
 Feat. 8 vo. 5$. 
 
 ON NOTHING AND KINDRED SUB- 
 JECTS. Third Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 5 s. 
 ON EVERYTHING. Third Edition. Fcap. 
 8 vo. 5 s. 
 
 ON SOMETHING. Second Edition. Fcap. 
 8 vo. 5-r. 
 
 FIRST AND LAST. Second Edition. 
 Fcaf. 8 vo. 5 s. 
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. Illustrated. 
 
 Third Edition. Demy Zvo. 15 s. net. 
 
 THE PYRENEES. Illustrated. Second 
 Edition. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net . 
 
 Bennett (W. H.). A PRIMER OF THE 
 BIBLE. Fifth Edition. Cr. 8z >o. 2 s. 6 d. 
 
 Bennett (W. H.) and Adeney (W. F.). A 
 
 BIBLICAL INTRODUCTION. With a 
 concise Bibliography. Sixth Edition. Cr. 
 
 8 vo. js. 6 d. Also in Two Volumes. Cr. 
 
 8 vo. Each 3*. 6 d. net. 
 
 Benson (Archbishop). GOD'S BOARD. 
 Communion Addresses. Second Edition. 
 Fcaf. 8 vo. 3 s. 6 d. net . 
 
 3 
 
 Bicknell (Ethel E.). PARIS AND HER 
 TREASURES. Illustrated. Fcap. 8 vo. 
 Round corners. 5^. net. 
 
 Blake (William). ILLUSTRATIONS OF 
 THE BOOK OF JOB. With a General In- 
 troduction by Laurence Binyon. Illus- 
 trated. Quarto. 21 s. net. 
 
 Bloemfontein (Bishop of). ARA CCELI : 
 An Essay in Mystical Theology. 
 FiftJi Edition. Cr. Svo. 2 s - net. 
 
 FAITH AND EXPERIENCE. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8z >0. 3 a - . 6 d. net. 
 
 Bowden (E. M.). THE IMITATION OF 
 BUDDHA: Quotations from Buddhist 
 
 Literature for each Day in the Year. Sixth 
 Edition. Cr. 16 mo. 2s. 6 d. 
 
 Brabant (F. GO- RAMBLES IN SUSSEX. 
 Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 Bradley (A. G.). ROUND ABOUT WILT- 
 SHIRE. Illustrated. Secottd Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF NORTHUMBER- 
 LAND. Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy 
 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Braid (James). ADVANCED GOLF. 
 Illustrated. Seventh Edition . Demy 8 vo. 
 ior. 6 d. net. 
 
 Brodrick (Mary) and Morton (A. Ander- 
 son). A CONCISE DICTIONARY OF 
 EGYPTIAN ARCHAEOLOGY. A Hand- 
 book for Students and Travellers. Illus- 
 trated. Cr. 8z w. 3J. 6 d. 
 
 Browning (Robert). PARACELSUS. 
 Edited with an Introduction, Notes, and 
 Bibliography by Margaret L. Lee and 
 Katharine B. Locgck. Fcaf. 8 vo. 3 s. 6 d . 
 net. 
 
 Buckton (A. M.). EAGER HEART : A 
 Christinas Mystery-Play. Tenth Edition. 
 Cr. Zvo. is. net. 
 
 Bull (Paul). GOD AND OUR SOLDIERS. 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 Burns (Robert). THE POEMS AND 
 SONGS. Edited by Andrew Lang and 
 W. A. Craigie. With Portrait. Third 
 Edition. IVide Demy 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 Caiman (W. T.). THE LIFE OF 
 CRUSTACEA. Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 Carlyle (Thomas). THE FRENCH 
 REVOLUTION. Edited by C. R. L. 
 Fletcher. Three Volumes. Cr. 8 vo. i8r. 
 
 THE LETTERS AND SPEECHES OF 
 OLIVER CROMWELL. With an In- 
 troduction by C. H. Firth, and Notes 
 and Appendices by S. C. Lomas. Three 
 Volumes. Demy 8 vo. 18 s. net. 
 
Metiiuen and Company Limited 
 
 4 
 
 Celano (.Brother Thomas of). THE 
 LIVES OF S. FRANCIS OF ASSISI. 
 Translated by A. G. Fekrers Howell. 
 With a Frontispiece. Cr. 8 vo. 5J. net. 
 
 Chambers (Mrs. Lambert). LAWN 
 TENNIS FOR LADIES. Illustrated. 
 Cr. 8vo. 2 s. 6d. net. 
 
 •Chesser, (Elizabeth Sloan). PER- 
 FECT HEALTH FOR WOMEN AND 
 CHILDREN. Cr. 8 vo. 3s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Chesterfield (Lord). THE LETTERS OF 
 THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD TO 
 HIS SON. Edited, with an Introduction by 
 C. Stkachey, and Notes by A. Calthrop. 
 Two Volumes. Cr. 8 vo. 12 s. 
 
 Chesterton (G.K.). CHARLES DICKENS. 
 
 With two Portraits in Photogravure. Seventh 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ALL THINGS CONSIDERED. Sixth 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 5s. 
 
 TREMENDOUS TRIFLES. Fourth 
 Edition. Fcap . 8vo. 5s. 
 
 ALARMS AND DISCURSIONS. Second 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 3s. 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE WHITE 
 HORSE. Third Edition. Fcap. 8z to. 5 s. 
 •TYPES OF MEN. Fcap. 8 vo. 5 r. 
 
 Clausen (George). SIX LECTURES ON 
 PAINTING. Illustrated. Third Edition. 
 Large Post 8 vo. 3s. 6d. net. 
 
 AIMS AND IDEALS IN ART. Eight 
 Lectures delivered to the Students of the 
 Royal Academy of Arts. Illustrated. Second 
 Edition. Large Post 8z >0. 5s. net. 
 
 Clutton-Brock (A.) SHELLEY : THE 
 MAN AND THE POET. Illustrated. 
 Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Cobb (W.F.). THE BOOK OF PSALMS. 
 With an Introduction and Notes. Demy 8 vo. 
 1 os. 6d. 7 iet. 
 
 Conrad (Joseph). THE MIRROR OF 
 THE SEA : Memories and Impressions. 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Coolidge (W. A. B.). THE ALPS : IN 
 NATURE AND HISTORY. Illustrated. 
 Demy 8vo. 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 •CorrevonCH.). ALPINE FLORA. Trans- 
 lated and enlarged by E. W. Clayforth. 
 Illustrated. Square Demy 8 vo. 16$. net. 
 
 Coulton (G. G.). CHAUCER AND HIS 
 ENGLAND. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Demy 8 vo. 10s. 6d. net. 
 
 Cowper (William). THE POEMS. 
 Edited with an Introduction and Notes by 
 J. C. Bailey. Illustrated, Demy 8 vo. 
 to s. 6 d. net . 
 
 Cox (J. C.). RAMBLES IN SURREY. 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Crowley (Ralph H.). THE HYGIENE 
 OF SCHOOL LIFE. Illustrated. Cr. 
 8 vo. 3 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Davis (H. W. C.). ENGLAND UNDER 
 THE NORMANS AND ANGEVINS: 
 1066-1272. Third Edition . Demy 8 vo. 
 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Dawbarn (Charles). FRANCE AND 
 THE FRENCH. Illustrated. Demy 8vo. 
 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Dearmer (Mabel). A CHILD'S LIFE 
 OF CHRIST. Illustrated. Large Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Deffand (Madame du). LETTRES DE 
 MADAME DU DEFFAND A HORACE 
 WALPOLE. Edited, with Introduction, 
 Notes, and Index, by Mrs. Paget Toynbee. 
 In Three Volumes. Demy 8 vo. £3 3*. net. 
 
 Dickinson (G. L.). THE GREEK VIEW 
 OF LIFE. Seventh Edition. Crown 8 vo. 
 2 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Ditchfield (P. H.). THE PARISH 
 CLERK. Illustrated. Third Edition. 
 Demy 8 vo. Js. 6d. net. 
 
 THE OLD-TIME PARSON. Ulustiated. 
 
 Second Edition. Demy 8 vo. ns. 6 d. net. 
 *THE OLD ENGLISH COUNTRY 
 SQUIRE. Illustrated. Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. 
 net. 
 
 Ditchfield (P. H. ) and Roe (Fred). 
 
 VANISHING ENGLAND. The Book by 
 P. II. Ditchfield. Illustrated by Fred Roe. 
 Second Edition. Wide Demy 8vo. 15 s. net. 
 
 Douglas (Hugh A.). VENICE ON FOOT. 
 With the Itinerary of the Grand Canal. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Pound 
 corners. Fcap. 8 vo. 51. net. 
 
 VENICE AND HER TREASURES. 
 Illustrated. Round corners. Fcap. 8 vo. 
 5*- net. 
 
 Dowden (J.). FURTHER STUDIES IN 
 THE PRAYER BOOK. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Driver (S. R.). SERMONS ON 
 
 SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH THE 
 OLD TESTAMENT. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Dumas (Alexandre). THE CRIMES OF 
 THE BORGIAS AND OTHERS. With 
 an Introduction by R. S. Garnett. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 THE CRIMES OF URBAIN GRAN- 
 DIERAND OTHERS. Illustrated. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE CRIMES OF THE MARQUISE 
 DE BRINVILL 1 ERS AND OTHERS. 
 Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE CRIMES OF A LI PACHA AND 
 OTHERS. Illustrated. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
General Literature 
 
 MY MEMOIRS. Translated by E. M. 
 Waller. With an Introduction by Andrew 
 Lang. With Frontispieces in Photogravure. 
 In six Volumes. Cr. 8vo. 6s. each volume. 
 
 Vol. I. 1802-1821. Vol. IV. 1830-183T. 
 Vol. II. 1822-1825. Vol. V. 1831-1832. 
 Vol. III. 1826-1830. Vol. VI. 1832-1833. 
 MY PETS. Newly translated by A. R. 
 Allinson. Illustrated. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Duncan (F. M. ). OUR INSECT 
 FRIENDS AND FOES. Illustrated. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Dunn-Pattison (R. P.). NAPOLEON'S 
 MARSHALS. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 
 Second Edition. 12 s. 6d. net. 
 
 THE BLACK PRINCE. Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Durham (The Earl of). THE REPORT 
 ON CANADA. With an Introductory 
 Note. Demy 8 vo. 4 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Dutt (W. A.). THE NORFOLK BROADS. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Egerton (H. E ). A SHORT HISTORY 
 OF BRITISH COLONIAL POLICY. 
 Third Edition. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Evans (Herbert A.). CASTLES OF 
 ENGLAND AND WALES. Illustrated. 
 Demy 8 vo. 12 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Exeter (Bishop of). R E G N U M D E I. 
 (The Bampton Lectures of 1901.) A Cheaper 
 Edition. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Ewald (Carl). MY LITTLE BOY. 
 Translated by Alexander Teixeira de 
 Mattos. Illustrated. Fcap. 8 vo. 5f. 
 
 Falrbrother (W. H.). THE PHILO- 
 SOPHY OF T. H. GREEN. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 3 s. 6d. 
 
 ♦ffoulkes (Charles). THE ARMOURER 
 AND HIS CRAFT. Illustrated. Royal 
 i^to. £2 2 s. net. 
 
 Firth (C. H.). CROMWELL’S ARMY: 
 A History of the English Soldier during the 
 Civil Wars, the Commonwealth, and the 
 Protectorate. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Fisher (H. A. L.). THE REPUBLICAN 
 TRADITION IN EUROPE. Cr. 8vo. 
 6s. net. 
 
 FitzGerald (Edward). THE RUBA'IYAT 
 OF OMAR KHAYYAM. Printed from 
 the Fifth and last Edition. With a Com- 
 mentary by H. M. Batson, and a Biograph- 
 ical Introduction by E. D. Ross. Cr. 8 vo. 
 6s. 
 
 Flux (A. W.). ECONOMIC PRINCIPLES. 
 Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 5 
 
 Fraser (J. F.). ROUND THE WORLD 
 ON A WHEEL. Illustrated. Fifth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Galton (Sir Francis). MEMORIES OF 
 MY LIFE. Illustrated. Third Edition. 
 Demy 8 vo. iot. 6d. net. 
 
 Gibbins (H. de B.). INDUSTRY IN 
 ENGLAND: HISTORICAL OUT- 
 LINES. With Maps and Plans. Seventh 
 Edition , Revised. Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6d. 
 THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF 
 ENGLAND. With 5 Maps and a Plan. 
 Eighteenth and Revised Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 
 
 ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS. 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 2 s. 6d. 
 
 Gibbon (Edward). THE MEMOIRS OF 
 THE LIFE OF EDWARD GIBBON. 
 Edited by G. Birkbkck Hill. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE 
 ROMAN EMPIRE. Edited, with Notes, 
 Appendices, and Maps, by J. B. Bury, 
 Illustrated. In Seven Volumes. Demy 
 8 vo. Each 10 s. 6d. net. A Iso in Seven 
 Volumes. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. each. 
 
 Glover (T. R.). THE CONFLICT OF 
 RELIGIONS IN THE EARLY ROMAN 
 EMPIRE. Fourth Edition. Demy 8 vo. 
 7 s. 6d. tut. 
 
 Godley (A. D.). LYRA FRIVOLA. Fourth 
 Edition. Fcap . 8 vo. 2 s. 6 d. 
 
 VERSES TO ORDER. Second Edition. 
 Fcap. 8 vo. 2 s. 6 d. 
 
 SECOND STRINGS. Fcap. 8 vo. 2 s. 6d. 
 
 Gostling (Frances M.). THE BRETONS 
 AT HOME. Illustrated. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 AUVERGNE AND ITS PEOPLE. Ulus- 
 trated. Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6d. net. 
 
 ♦Gray (Arthur). CAMBRIDGE AND ITS 
 STORY. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6d . 
 net. 
 
 Grahame (Kenneth). THE WIND IN 
 THE WILLOWS. Illustrated. Sixth 
 Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Granger (Frank). HISTORICAL SOCL 
 OLOGY : a Text-Book of Politics. 
 Cr. 8vo. 2>s. &d. net. 
 
 Grew (Edwin Sharpe). THE GROWTH 
 OF A PLANET. Illustrated. Cr. 8vo. 6 s. 
 
 Griffin (W. Hall) and Minchin (H. C.). 
 
 THE LIFE OF ROBERT BROWNING. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy 8vo. 
 12 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Hale (J. R.). FAMOUS SEA FIGHTS: 
 from Salamis to Tsu-shima. Illustrated. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. net. 
 
6 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 ♦Hall (H. R.). THE ANCIENT HISTORY 
 OF THE NEAR EAST FROM THE 
 EARLIEST PERIOD TO THE PER- 
 SIAN INVASION OF GREECE. Illus- 
 trated. Demy 8 vo. 15*. net. 
 
 Hannay (D.). A SHORT HISTORY OF 
 THE ROYAL NAVY. Vol. I., 1217-1688. 
 Vol. II., 1689-1815. Demy 8 vo. Each 
 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Harper (Charles G.). THE AUTOCAR 
 ROAD-BOOK. With Maps. In Four 
 Volumes. Cr. 8 vo. Each 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Vol. I. — South of the Thames. 
 
 Vol. II. — North and South Wales 
 and West Midlands. 
 
 Vol. Ill— East Anglia and East Mid- 
 lands. 
 
 •Vol. IV. — The North of England and 
 South of Scotland. 
 
 Harris (Frank). THE WOMEN OF 
 SHAKESPEARE. DemySvo. 7 s. 6 d.net. 
 
 Hassall (Arthur). THE LIFE OF 
 NAPOLEON. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 
 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Headley (F. W.). DARWINISM AND 
 MODERN SOCIALISM. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 5 s. 7 iet. 
 
 Henderson (M. Sturge). GEORGE 
 MEREDITH ; NOVELIST, POET, 
 REFORMER. With a Portrait. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 81 >0. 6 s. 
 
 Henley (W. E.). ENGLISH LYRICS: 
 CHAUCER TO POE, Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 2 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Hill (George Francis). ONE HUNDRED 
 MASTERPIECES OF SCULPTURE. 
 Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Hind (C. Lewis). DAYS IN CORNWALL. 
 Illustrated. Third Edition . Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 Hobhouse (L. T.). THE THEORY OF 
 KNOWLEDGE. Demy 8 vo. io.y. 6 d. net. 
 
 Hobson . (J. A.). INTERNATIONAL 
 TRADE : An Application of Economic 
 Theory. Cr. 8 vo. 2 s. 6 d. net. 
 PROBLEMS OF POVERTY : An Inquiry 
 into the Industrial Condition of the 
 Poor. Seventh Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 2s . 6 d. 
 THE PROBLEM OF THE UN- 
 EMPLOYED : An Enquiry and an 
 
 Economic Policy. Fifth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 
 2 s. 6 d. 
 
 Hodgson (Mrs. W.). HOWTO IDENTIFY 
 OLD CHINESE PORCELAIN. Illus- 
 trated. Third Edition. Post 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 Holdich (Sir T. H.). THE INDIAN 
 BORDERLAND, 1880-1900. Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Holdsworth (W. S.). A HISTORY OF 
 ENGLISH LAW. In Four Volumes . 
 Vols. /., II., III. Demy 8 vo. Each 10 s. 6 d. 
 net. 
 
 Holland (Clive). TYROL AND ITS 
 PEOPLE. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. 
 net. 
 
 THE BELGIANS AT HOME. Illustrated. 
 Demy 8 vo. ros. 6 d. net. 
 
 Horsburgh (E. L. S.). LORENZO THE 
 MAGNIFICENT : and Florencf. in her 
 Golden Age. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Demy 8 vo. 15 s. 7 iet. 
 
 WATERLOO : a Narrative and a Crit- 
 icism. With Plans. Seco 7 id Edition. Cr. 
 
 8 vo. 5 s. 
 
 THE LIFE OF SAVONAROLA. Illus- 
 trated. Cr. 8 vo. 5 s. net. 
 
 Hosie (Alexander!. MANCHURIA. Illus- 
 trated. Sccofid Edition. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. 
 net. 
 
 Hudson (W. H.). A SHEPHERD’S 
 LIFE: Impressions of the South Wilt- 
 shire Downs. Illustrated. Third Edi- 
 tion. De 7 ny 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. 71 et. 
 
 Humphreys (John H.). PROPOR- 
 TIONAL REPRESENTATION. Cr. 8 vo. 
 
 5-r. 7 iet. 
 
 Hutchinson (Horace G.). THE NEW 
 FOREST. Illustrated. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6x. 
 
 Hutton (Edward). THE CITIES OF 
 SPAIN. Illustrated. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 THE CITIES OF UMBRIA. Illustrated. 
 
 Fourth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 * THE CITIES OF LOMBARDY. Illus- 
 trated. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 FLORENCE AND NORTHERN TUS- 
 CAN Y W I T H G E N O A. Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 SIENA AND SOUTHERN TUSCANY. 
 
 Illustrated. Seco 7 id Editio 7 i. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 VENICE AND VENETIA. Illustrated. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 ROME. Illustrated. Third Edition. Cr. 
 
 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 COUNTRY WALKS ABOUT FLORENCE. 
 Illustrated. Scco?id Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 
 Ss. net. 
 
 IN UNKNOWN TUSCANY. With Notes 
 by William Heywood. Illustrated. Second 
 Edition. De 7 ny 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. 7 iet. 
 
 A BOOK OF THE WYE. Illustrated. 
 Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. tiet. 
 
 Ibsen (Henrik). BRAND. A Dramatic 
 Poem, Translated by William Wilson. 
 Fourth Editio7i. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 Inge (W. R.). CHRISTIAN MYSTICISM. 
 (The Bampton Lectures of 1899.) Second 
 a?id Cheaper Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 5 s. 7iet. 
 
General Literature 
 
 Innes (A. D.). A HISTORY OF THE 
 BRITISH IN INDIA. With Maps and 
 Plans. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ENGLAND UNDER THE TUDORS. 
 With Maps. Third Edition. Demy 8 vo. 
 tos. 6 d. net. 
 
 Innes (Mary). SCHOOLS OF PAINT- 
 ING. Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. 
 
 8 vo. 5 s. net. 
 
 Jenks (E.). AN OUTLINE OF ENG- 
 LISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. Second 
 Edition. Revised by R. C. K. Ensor, 
 Cr. 8 vo. 2 s. 6d. net. 
 
 A SHORT HISTORY OF ENGLISH LAW: 
 from thb Earliest Times to the End 
 of the Year 1911. Demy 87 >0. 10s. 6d. 
 
 net. 
 
 Jerningham (Charles Edward). THE 
 
 MAXIMS OF MARMADUKE. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 5 s. 
 
 Johnston (Sir H. H. ). BRITISH CEN- 
 TRAL AFRICA. Illustrated. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 4 to. i 8 j . net. 
 
 THE NEGRO IN THE NEW WORLD. 
 Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 21 s. net. 
 
 Julian (Lady) of Norwich. REVELA- 
 TIONS OF DIVINE LOVE. Edited by 
 Grace W arrack. Fourth Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 3J. 6d. 
 
 Keats (John). THE POEMS. Edited 
 with Introduction and Notes by E. de 
 S£lincourt. With a Frontispiece in Photo- 
 gravure. Third Edition. Demy 8 vo. 
 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Keble (John). THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 
 With an Introduction and Notes by W. 
 Lock. Illustrated. Third Edition. Fcap. 
 8 vo. 3-r. 6 d. 
 
 Kempis (Thomas a). THE IMITATION 
 OF CHRIST. From the Latin, with an 
 Introduction by Dean Farrar. Illustrated. 
 Third Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 3.?. 6d. 
 
 Kingston (Edward). A GUIDE TO 
 THE BRITISH PICTURES IN THE 
 NATIONAL GALLERY. Illustrated. 
 Fcap. 8 vo. 3-r. 6 d. net. 
 
 Kipling (Rudyard). BARRACK-ROOM 
 BALLADS. 108 th Thousand. Thirty-first 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. Also Fcap. Svo, 
 Leather. 5J. net. 
 
 THE SEVEN SEAS. 89 th Thousand. 
 Nineteenth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. Also 
 Fcap. 8 vo, Leather. 5J. net. 
 
 THE FIVE NATIONS. 72 nd Thousand. 
 Eighth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. Also Fcap. 
 8 vo, Leather. 5J. 7iet. 
 
 DEPARTMENTAL DITTIES. Twentieth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. Also Fcap . Svo, 
 Leather. 5 s. net. 
 
 7 
 
 Lamb (Charles and Mary). THE 
 
 COMPLETE WORKS. Edited with an 
 Introduction and Notes by E. V. Lucas. A 
 New and Revised Edition in Six Volumes. 
 With Frontispiece. Fcap 8 vo. 5 s. each. 
 The volumes are : — 
 
 1. Miscellaneous Prose, ii. Elia and 
 the last Essays of Elia. iii. Books 
 for Children. iv. Plays and Poems. 
 v. and vi. Letters. 
 
 Lankester (Sir Ray). SCIENCE FROM 
 AN EASY CHAIR. Illustrated. Fifth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Le Braz (Anatole). THE LAND OF 
 PARDONS. Translated by Frances M. 
 Gostling. Illustrated. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Lock (Walter). ST. PAUL, THE 
 
 MASTER-BUILDER. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 3-r. 6 d. 
 
 THE BIBLE AND CHRISTIAN LIFE. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Lodge (Sir Oliver). THE SUBSTANCE 
 OF FAITH, ALLIED WITH SCIENCE: 
 A Catechism for Parents and Teachers. 
 Eleventh Edition. Cr. Svo. 2 s. net. 
 
 MAN AND THE UNIVERSE: A Study 
 of the Influence of the Advance in 
 Scientific Knowledge upon our under- 
 standing of Christianity. Ninth 
 Edition. Demy Svo. 5s. net. Also Fcap. 
 Svo. is. net. 
 
 THE SURVIVAL OF MAN. A Study in 
 Unrecognised Human Faculty. Fifth 
 Edition. Wide Crown 87 >o. 5J. net. 
 
 REASON AND BELIEF. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 3X. 6d. net. 
 
 •MODERN PROBLEMS. Cr. 8 vo. 5 r. net. 
 
 Lorimer (George Horace). LETTERS 
 FROM A SELF-MADE MERCHANT 
 TO HIS SON. Illustrated. Twenty-second 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 3J. 6d. 
 
 Also Fcap. 87 >0. is. net. 
 
 OLD GORGON GRAHAM. Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Lucas (E, V.). THE LIFE OF CHARLES 
 LAMB. Illustrated. Fifth Edition. Demy 
 Svo. 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 A WANDERER IN HOLLAND. Illus- 
 trated. Thirteenth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 A WANDERER IN LONDON. Illus- 
 trated. Twelfth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 A WANDERER IN PARIS. Illustrated. 
 Ninth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 A Iso Fcap. Svo. 5J. 
 
 •A WANDERER IN FLORENCE. Illu- 
 strated. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE OPEN ROAD: A Little Book for 
 
 Wayfarers. Eighteenth Edition. Fcap. 
 Svo. 5.?. ; India Taper , 7s. 6d. 
 
 *Also Illustrated in colour. Cr. 4 to 1 5$. net. 
 
8 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 THE FRIENDLY TOWN : A Little Book 
 for the Urbane. Sixth Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 
 5-r. ; India Paper, js. 6 d. 
 
 FIRESIDE AND SUNSHINE. Sixth 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 5 s. 
 
 CHARACTER AND COMEDY. Sixth 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 5s. 
 
 THE GENTLEST ART. A Choice of 
 Letters by Entertaining Hands. Seventh 
 Edition. Fcap 8 vo. 5-r. 
 
 THE SECOND POST. Third Edition. 
 Fcap. 8 vo. 5 s. 
 
 HER INFINITE VARIETY : A Feminine 
 Portrait Gallery. Sixth Edition. 
 Fcap. 8 vo. 5 s. 
 
 GOOD COMPANY : A Rally of Men. 
 
 Second Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 5J. 
 
 ONE DAY AND ANOTHER. Fifth 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 5J. 
 
 OLD LAMPS FOR NEW. Fourth Edition. 
 Fcap. Bvo. 5 s. 
 
 LISTENER’S LURE : An Oblique Nar- 
 ration. Ninth Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 5-r. 
 OVER BEMERTON’S: An Easy-Going 
 Chronicle. Ninth Edition. Fcap. Bvo. 
 5 *- 
 
 MR. INGLESIDE. Ninth Edition. Fcap. 
 Bvo. 5J. 
 
 See also Lamb (Charles). 
 
 Lydekker(R. and Others). REPTILES. 
 AMPHIBIA, FISHES, AND LOWER 
 CHORDATA. Edited by J. C. Cunning- 
 ham. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 10s. 6d. net. 
 
 Lydekker (R.). THE OX AND ITS 
 KINDRED. Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Macaulay (Lord). CRITICAL AND 
 HISTORICAL ESSAYS. Edited by F. 
 C. Montague. Three Volumes. Cr. 8 vo. 
 18 s. 
 
 McCabe (Josephs THE DECAY OF 
 THE CHURCH OF ROME. Third 
 Edition. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 THE EMPRESSES OF ROME. Illus- 
 trated. Demy 8 vo. 12s. 6 d. net. 
 
 MacCarthy (Desmond) and Russell 
 (Agatha). LADY JOHN RUSSELL: 
 A Memoir. Illustrated. Fourth Edition. 
 Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 McCullagh (Francis). THE FALL OF 
 ABD-UL-HAMID. Illustrated. Demy 
 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 McDougall (William). AN INTRODUC- 
 TION TO SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY. 
 Fourth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 5-r. net. 
 
 BODY AND MIND ; A History and a 
 Defence of Animism. Demy 8 vo. 10s. 6d. 
 net. 
 
 4 Mdlle. Mori ’ (Author of). ST. CATHER- 
 INE OF SIENA AND HER TIMES. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy Bvo . 
 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Maeterlinck (Maurice). THE BLUE 
 
 BIRD : A Fairy Play in Six Acts. 
 
 Translated by Alexander Teixeira de 
 Mattos. Fcap. Bvo. Deckle Edges. 3J. 6 d. 
 net. Also Fcap. Bvo. Cloth , is. net. An 
 Edition, illustrated in colour by F. Cayley 
 Robinson, is also published. Cr. 4 to . Gilt 
 tof. 31s.net.' Of the above book Twenty- 
 nine Editions in all have been issued. 
 
 MARY MAGDALENE; A Plat in Three 
 Acts. Translated by Alexander Teixeira 
 de Mattos. Third Edition. Fcap. Bvo. 
 Deckle Edges. 2>s.6d.net. Also Fcap. Bvo. 
 ij. net. 
 
 DEATH. Translated by Alexander 
 Teixeira de Mattos. Fourth Edition. 
 Fcap. Bvo. 3X. 6 d. net. 
 
 Mahaffy (J. P.). A HISTORY OF EGYPT 
 UNDER THE PTOLEMAIC DYNASTY. 
 Illustrated. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Maitland (F. W.). ROMAN CANON 
 LAW IN THE CHURCH OF ENG- 
 LAND. Royal Bvo. 7 s. 6d. 
 
 Marett (R. R.). THE THRESHOLD OF 
 RELIGION. Cr. Bvo. 3J. 6 d. net. 
 
 Marriott (Charles). A SPANISH HOLI- 
 DAY. Illustrated. Demy Bvo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 THE ROMANCE OF THE RHINE. 
 Illustrated. Demy Bvo. 1 os. 6d. net. 
 
 Marriott (J. A. R.). THE LIFE AND 
 TIMES OF LUCIUS CARY, VISCOUNT 
 FALKLAND. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Demy Bvo. 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Masefield (John). SEA LIFE IN NEL- 
 SON’S TIME. Illustrated. Cr. Bvo. 
 3 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 A SAILOR’S GARLAND. Selected and 
 Edited. Second Edition. Cr. Bvo. 3 s. 6d. 
 net. 
 
 Masterman (C. F. G.). TENNYSON 
 AS A RELIGIOUS TEACHER. Second 
 Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 THE CONDITION OF ENGLAND. 
 Fourth Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. Also Fcap. 
 Bvo. is. net. 
 
 •Mayne (Ethel Colburn). BYRON. Illus- 
 trated. In two volumes. Demy Bvo. au. 
 net. 
 
 Medley (D. J.). ORIGINAL ILLUS- 
 TRATIONS OF ENGLISH CONSTITU- 
 TIONAL HISTORY. Cr. Bvo. -js.6d.net. 
 
 Methuen (A. M. S.). ENGLAND’S RUIN : 
 Discussed in Fourteen Letters to a 
 Protectionist. Ninth Edition. Cr. Bvo. 
 3 d. net. 
 
 Miles (Eustace). LIFE AFTER LIFE: 
 or* The Theory of Reincarnation. 
 Cr. Bvo. 2 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 THE POWER OF CONCENTRATION : 
 How to Acquire it. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. Bvo. 3-r. 6d. net. 
 
General Literature 
 
 MILLAIS. Illustrated. New Edition. 
 Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Milne (J. G.). A HISTORY OF EGYPT 
 UNDER ROMAN RULE. Illustrated. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Moffat (Mary M.). QUEEN LOUISA OF 
 PRUSSIA. Illustrated. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 MARIA THERESA. Illustrated. Demy 
 8 vo. 10s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Money (L. G. Chlozza). RICHES AND 
 POVERTY, 1910. Tenth and Revised 
 Edition. Demy 8vo. $s. net. 
 
 MONEY’S FISCAL DICTIONARY. 1910. 
 
 Second Edition. Demy 8 vo. 5s. net. 
 INSURANCE VERSUS POVERTY. Cr. 
 8 vo. 5J. net. 
 
 THINGS THAT MATTER: Papers on 
 Subjects which are, or ought to be, 
 under Discussion. Demy 8 vo. 5*. net. 
 
 Montague (C.E.). DRAMATIC VALUES. 
 
 Second Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 5-f. 
 
 Moorhouse (E. Hallam). NELSON’S 
 LADY HAMILTON. Illustrated. Third 
 Edition. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 •Morgan (C. Lloyd). INSTINCT AND 
 EXPERIENCE. Cr. 8vo. 5 s. net. 
 
 •Nevlll (Lady Dorothy). MY OWN 
 TIMES. Edited by her son. Demy 8 vo. 
 15 s. net . 
 
 Norway (A. H.). NAPLES : Past and 
 Present. Illustrated. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 •O’Donnell (Elliott). WEREWOLVES 
 Cr. 8 vo. 5f. net. 
 
 Oman (C. W. C.), A HISTORY OF THE 
 ART OF WAR IN THE MIDDLE 
 AGES. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 10s. 6 d. 
 net. 
 
 ENGLAND BEFORE THE NORMAN 
 CONQUEST. With Maps. Second 
 Edition. Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. net . 
 
 Oxford (M. N.), A HANDBOOK OF 
 NURSING. Sixth Edition , R evised. C r. 
 8z >0. 3f. 6 d. net. 
 
 Pakes (W. C. C.). THE SCIENCE OF 
 HYGIENE. Illustrated. . Second and 
 Cheaper Edition. Revised by A. T. 
 Nankivell. Cr. 8 vo. 5*. net. 
 
 Parker (Eric). THE BOOK OF THE 
 ZOO. Illustrated. Second Edition . Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Pears (Sir Edwin). TURKEY AND ITS 
 PEOPLE. Second Edition » Demy 8 vo. 
 I2£. 6d. net. 
 
 Petrie (W. M. Flinders). A HISTORY 
 OF EGYPT. Illustrated. In Six Volumes. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. each. 
 
 Vol. I. From the 1st to the XVIth 
 Dynasty. Seventh Edition. 
 
 Vol. II. The XVIIth and XVIIIth 
 Dynasties. Fourth Edition. 
 
 Vol. III. XIXth to XXXth Dynasties. 
 Vol. IV. Egypt under the Ptolemaic 
 Dynasty. J. P. Mahaffy. 
 
 Vol. V. Egypt under Roman Rule. J. G. 
 Milne. 
 
 Vol. VI. Egypt in the Middle Ages. 
 
 Stanley Lane*Pooi.e. 
 
 RELIGION AND CONSCIENCE IN 
 ANCIENT EGYPT. Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 
 2 s. 6 d. 
 
 SYRIA AND EGYPT, FROM THE TELL 
 EL AMARNA LETTERS. Cr. 8 vo. 
 2J. 6d. 
 
 EGYPTIAN TALES. Translated from the 
 Papyri. First Series, ivth to xiith Dynasty. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 
 
 3 s. 6d. 
 
 EGYPTIAN TALES. Translated from the 
 Papyri. Second Series, xvmth to xixth 
 Dynasty. Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 3<r. 6d. 
 EGYPTIAN DECORATIVE ART. Illus- 
 trated. Cr. 8 vo. 3 s. 6d. 
 
 Phelps (Ruth S.). SKIES ITALIAN: A 
 Little Breviary for Travellers in 
 Italy. Fcap. 8vo. Leather. 5 s. net. 
 
 Pollard (Alfred W.). SHAKESPEARE 
 FOLIOS AND QUARTOS. A Study in 
 the Bibliography of Shakespeare’s Plays, 
 1594-1685. Illustrated. Folio. 2i.r. 7iet. 
 
 Porter (G. R.). THE PROGRESS OF 
 THE NATION. A New Edition. Edited 
 by F. W. Hirst. Demy 8 vo. 21 s. net. 
 
 Power (J. O’Connor). THE MAKING OF 
 AN ORATOR. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Price (Eleanor C.). CARDINAL DE 
 RICHELIEU. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Demy 8s vo. 10 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Price (L. L.). A SHORT HISTORY OF 
 POLITICAL ECONOMY IN ENGLAND 
 FROM ADAM SMITH TO ARNOLD 
 TOYNBEE. Seventh Editiofi . Cr. 8s vo. 
 2 s. 6d. 
 
 Pycraft (W. P0- A HISTORY OF BIRDS. 
 Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 1 os. 6 d. net. 
 
 Rawlings (Gertrude B.). COINS AND 
 HOW TO KNOW THEM. Illustrated. 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Regan (C. Tate). THE FRESHWATER 
 FISHES OF THE BRITISH ISLES. 
 Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Reid (Arehdall). THE LAWS OF HERE- 
 DITY. Second Edition. Demy 8 vo % 21s. 
 net . 
 
10 
 
 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 Robertson (C. Grant). SELECT STAT- 
 UTES, CASES, AND DOCUMENTS, 
 1660-1894. Demy Svo. xos. 6d. net . 
 ENGLAND UNDER THE HANOVER- 
 IANS. Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy 
 8 vo. io s. 6d. net. 
 
 Roe (Fred). OLD OAK FURNITURE. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy 8 vo. 
 io s. 6d. net. 
 
 *Ryan (P. F. W.). STUART LIFE AND 
 MANNERS ; A Social History. Illus- 
 trated. Demy 8 vo. io s. 6 d. net. 
 
 St. Francis of Assisi. THE LITTLE 
 FLOWERS OF THE GLORIOUS 
 MESSER, AND OF HIS FRIARS. 
 Done into English, with Notes by William 
 Heywood. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 5J. net. 
 
 * Saki’ (H. H. Munro). REGINALD. 
 
 Third Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 2 s. 6 d. net. 
 REGINALD IN RUSSIA. Fcap. Svo. 
 as. 6d. net. 
 
 Sandeman (G. A. CO* METTERNICH. 
 Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Schidrowitz (Philip). RUBBER. Illus- 
 trated. Demy 8 vo. xos. 6 d. net. 
 
 Selous (Edmund). TOMMY SMITH’S 
 ANIMALS. Illustrated. Eleventh Edi- 
 tion. Ecap. 8 vo. is. 6d. 
 
 TOMMY SMITH’S OTHER ANIMALS. 
 Illustrated. Fifth Edition. Fcap. Svo. 
 2 s. 6d. 
 
 JACK’S INSECTS. Illustrated. Cr.Svo. 6s. 
 
 Shakespeare (William). 
 
 THE FOUR FOLIOS, 1623; 1632; 1664; 
 1685. Each £4 4 s. net, or a complete set, 
 £11 12 s. net. 
 
 THE POEMS OF WILLIAM SHAKE- 
 SPEARE. With an Introduction and Notes 
 by George Wyndham. Demy $vo. Buck- 
 ram. ioj. 6 d. 
 
 Shelley (Percy Bysshe). THE POEMS 
 OF PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. With 
 an Introduction by A. Glutton- Brock and 
 notes by C. D. Locock. Two Volumes. 
 Demy 8 vo. 21^. ?iet. 
 
 Sladen (Douglas). SICILY : The New 
 Winter Resort. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 5f. net. 
 
 Smith (Adam). THE WEALTH OF 
 NATIONS. Edited by Edwin C annan. 
 Two Volumes. Demy Svo. 21 s. net. 
 
 Smith (G. Herbert). GEM-STONES 
 AND THEIR DISTINCTIVE CHARAC- 
 TERS. Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 6^. net. 
 
 Snell (F. J.). A BOOK OF EXMOOR. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE CUSTOMS OF OLD ENGLAND. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ‘ StanclifTe.* GOLF DO’S AND DONT’S. 
 Fourth Edition. Fcap. Svo. is. net. 
 
 Stevenson (R. L.). THE LETTERS OF 
 ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Edited 
 by Sir Sidney Colvin. A New and En- 
 larged Edition in four volumes. Third 
 Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. Each 5 s. Leather , 
 each 5J. net. 
 
 Stevenson (M. I.). FROM SARANAC 
 TO THE MARQUESAS AND BEYOND. 
 Being Letters written by Mrs. M. I. Steven- 
 son during 1887-88. Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 
 6s. net. 
 
 LETTERS FROM SAMOA, 1891-95. Edited 
 and arranged by M. C. Balfour. Illus- 
 trated. Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. net. 
 
 Storr (Vernon F.). DEVELOPMENT 
 AND DIVINE PURPOSE. Cr. 8 vo. 5 s. 
 net. 
 
 Streatfeild (R. A.). MODERN MUSIC 
 AND MUSICIANS. Illustrated. Second 
 Edition. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Swanton (E. W.). FUNGI AND HOW 
 TO KNOW THEM. Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 
 6s. net. 
 
 Symes (J. E.). THE FRENCH REVO- 
 LUTION. Second Edition. Cr.Svo. 2 s. 6d. 
 
 Tabor (Margaret E.). THE SAINTS IN 
 ART. Illustrated. Fcap. 8 vo. 3 s. 6<l. net. 
 
 Taylor (A. E.). ELEMENTS OF META- 
 PHYSICS. Second Edition. Demy 8 vo. 
 xos. 6 d. 7 iet. 
 
 Taylor (Mrs. Basil) (Harriet Osgood). 
 
 JAPANESE GARDENS. Illustrated. 
 Cr. \to. 21 s. net. 
 
 Thibaudeau (A. C.). BONAPARTE AND 
 THE CONSULATE. Translated and 
 Edited by G. K. Fortescue. Illustrated. 
 Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Thomas (Edward). MAURICE MAE- 
 TERLINCK. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 5 s. net. 
 
 Thompson (Francis). SELECTED 
 POEMS OF FRANCIS THOMPSON. 
 With a Biographical Note by Wilfrid 
 Meynkll. With a Portrait in Photogravure. 
 Seventh Edition. Fcap. 8 vo. 5$. net. 
 
 Tileston (Mary W.). DAILY STRENGTH 
 FOR DAILY NEEDS. Nineteenth Edi- 
 tion. Medium 16 mo. 2 s. 6d. net. Lamb- 
 skin 2 s - 6d. net. Also an edition in superior 
 binding, 6s. 
 
 THE STRONGHOLD OF HOPE. 
 Medium 1 6mo. 2 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Toynbee (Paget). DANTE ALIGHIERI : 
 His Life and Works. With 16 Illustra- 
 tions. Fourth and Enlarged Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. cf. 7 iet. 
 
General Literature ii 
 
 Trevelyan (G. M-). ENGLAND UNDER 
 THE S1UARTS. With Maps and Plans. 
 Fifth Edition. Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6 d. net . 
 
 Triggs (H. Inigo). TOWN PLANNING : 
 Past, Present, and Possible. Illustra- 
 ted. Second Edition. Wide Royal 8 vo, 
 15J. net. 
 
 ♦Turner (Sir Alfred E.). SIXTY YEARS 
 OF A SOLDIER’S LIFE. Demy 8 vo. 
 12s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Underhill (Evelyn). MYSTICISM. A 
 Study in the Nature and Development of 
 Man’s Spiritual Consciousness. Fourth 
 Edition. Demy 8z >0. 15$. net. 
 
 •Underwood (F. M-). UNITED ITALY. 
 
 Demy 8 vo. ioj \ 6 d. net. 
 
 Urwick (E. J.). A PHILOSOPHY OF 
 SOCIAL PROGRESS. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Vaughan (Herbert M.). THE NAPLES 
 RIVIERA. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 FLORENCE AND HER TREASURES. 
 Illustrated. Fcap. 8 vo. Routid corners. 
 
 5 s. net. 
 
 Vernon (Hon- W. Warren). READINGS 
 ON THE INFERNO OF DANTE. With 
 an Introduction by the Rev. Dr. Moore. 
 Two Volumes . Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 
 15J. net. 
 
 READINGS ON THE PURGATORIO 
 OF DANTE. With an Introduction by 
 the late Dean Church. Two Volumes. 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 15^. net. 
 READINGS ON THE PARADISO OF 
 DANTE. With an Introduction by the 
 Bishop of Ripon. Two Volumes. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 15s. net. 
 
 Wade (G. W.) f and Wade (J. H.). 
 
 RAMBLES IN SOMERSET, Illustrated. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Waddell (L. A.). LHASA AND ITS 
 MYSTERIES. With a Record of the Ex- 
 pedition of 1903-1904. Illustrated. Third 
 and Cheaper Edition. Medium Svo. 7 s.6d. 
 net. 
 
 Wagner (Richard). RICHARD WAG- 
 NER’S MUSIC DRAMAS: Interpreta- 
 tions, embodying Wagner’s own explana- 
 tions. By Alice Leighton Cleather 
 and Basil Crump. Fcap. 8 vo. 2 s. 6 d. each. 
 The Ring of the Nibelung. 
 
 Fifth Edition. 
 
 Parsifal, Lohengrin, and the Holy 
 Grail. 
 
 Tristan and Isolde. 
 
 Tannhauser and the Mastersingers 
 of Nuremberg. 
 
 Waterhouse (Elizabeth). WITH THE 
 SIMPLE-HEARTED; Little Homilies to 
 Women in Country Places. Third Edition. 
 Small Pott 8 vo. 2 s. net. 
 
 THE HOUSE BY THE CHERRY TREE. 
 
 A Second Series of Little Homilies to 
 Women in Country Places. Small Pott 8 vo. 
 
 2 s. net. 
 
 COMPANIONS OF THE WAY. Being 
 Selections for Morning and Evening Read- 
 ing. Chosen and arranged by Elizabeth 
 Waterhouse. Large Cr. 8 vo. ^s. net. 
 
 THOUGHTS OF A TERTIARY. Small 
 Pott 8 vo. is. net. 
 
 Waters (W. G.). ITALIAN SCULPTORS 
 AND SMITHS. Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 
 
 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Watt (Francis). EDINBURGH AND 
 THE LOTHIANS. Illustrated. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 10 s. 6d. net. 
 
 ♦Wedmore (Sir Frederick). MEMO- 
 RIES. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Weigall (Arthur E. P.). A GUIDE TO 
 THE ANTIQUITIES OF UPPER 
 EGYPT : From Abydos to the Sudan 
 
 Frontier. Illustrated. Cr. 8z >o. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Welch (Catharine). THE LITTLE 
 DAUPHIN. Illustrated. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Wells (J.). OXFORD AND OXFORD 
 LIFE. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. 3 s. 6d. 
 
 A SHORT HISTORY OF ROME. Eleventh 
 Edition. With 3 Maps. Cr. 8 vo. 3$. 6 d. 
 
 Wilde (Oscar). THE WORKS OF OSCAR 
 WILDE. In Twelve Volumes. Fcap. Svo. 
 5 s. net each volume. 
 
 1. Lord Arthur Savilf/s Crime and 
 the Portrait of Mr. W. H. ii. The 
 Duchess of Padua. iii. Poems. iv. 
 Lady Windermere’s Fan. v. A Woman 
 of No Importance, vi. An 'Ideal Hus- 
 band. vii. The Importance of being 
 Earnest. viii. A House of Pome- 
 granates. ix. Intentions, x. De Pro- 
 fundis and Prison Letters, xi. Essays, 
 xii. Sai.om6, A Florentine Tragedy, 
 and La Sainte Courtisane. 
 
 Williams (H. Noel). THE WOMEN 
 BONAPARTES. The Mother and three 
 Sisters of Napoleon. Illustrated. Two 
 Volumes. Demy 87 >0. 24 s. net. 
 
 A ROSE OF SAVOY ; Marie Ad£la!de of* 
 Savoy, Duchesse de Bourgogne, Mother 
 of Louis xv. Illustrated. Second 
 Edition. Devty Svo. 15s. net. 
 
 THE FASCINATING DUC DE RICHE- 
 LIEU ; Louis Francois Armand di; 
 Plessis (1696-1788). Illustrated. Demy Svo. 
 15J. net. 
 
 A PRINCESS OF ADVENTURE : Marik 
 Caroline, Duchesse de Berry (1798- 
 1870). Illustrated. Demy Syo, 15^. net. 
 
12 
 
 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 Wood (Sir Evelyn). FROM MIDSHIP. 
 MAN TO FIELD-MARSHAL. Illus- 
 trated. Fifth Edition. Demy 8 vo. 7s. 6d. 
 net. Also Fcap. 8 vo. is. net. 
 
 TH K REVOLT IN HINDUSTAN (1857-59). 
 Illustrated. Second Edition, Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Wood (W. Birkbeck), and Edmonds 
 (Col. J. E.). A HISTORY OF THE 
 CIVIL WAR IN THE UNITED 
 STATES (1861-5). With an Introduction 
 by Spenser Wilkinson. With 24 Maps 
 and Plans. Third Edition. Demy 8 vo. 
 12 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Wordsworth (W.). THE POEMS. With 
 an Introduction and Notes by Nowell 
 C. Smith. In Three Volumes. Demy Zvo. 
 i$s. net. 
 
 Yeats (W. B.). A BOOK OF IRISH 
 VERSE. Third Edition , Cr. 8 vo. 3$. 6 d. 
 
 Part II. — A Selection of Series. 
 
 Ancient Cities. 
 
 General Editor, B. C. A. WINDLE. 
 
 Cr. Svo. as. 6d. net each volume. 
 
 With Illustrations by E. 
 
 Bristol. Alfred Harvey. 
 
 Canterbury. J. C. Cox. 
 
 Chester. B. C. A. Windle. 
 
 Dublin. S. A. Q. Fitzpatrick. 
 
 H- New, and other Artists. 
 
 Edinburgh. M. G. Williamson. 
 
 Lincoln. E. Mansel Sympson. 
 Shrewsbury. T. Auden. 
 
 Wells and Glastonbury. T. S. Holmes. 
 
 The Antiquary’s Books. 
 
 General Editor, J. CHARLES COX. 
 Demy Svo. 7 s. 6d. net each volume . 
 With Numerous Illustrations. 
 
 Archaeology and False Antiquities. 
 R. Munro. 
 
 Bells of England, The. Canon J. J. Raven. 
 Second Edition. 
 
 Brasses of England, The. Herbert W. 
 
 Macklin. Second Edition. 
 
 Celtic Art in Pagan and Christian 
 Times. J. Romilly Allen. Second Edition. 
 Castles and Walled Towns of England, 
 The. A. Harvey. 
 
 Domesday Inquest, The. Adolphus Ballard. 
 English Church Furniture. J. C. Cox 
 and A. Harvey. Second Edition. 
 
 English Costume. From Prehistoric Times 
 to the End of the Eighteenth Century. 
 George Clinch. 
 
 English Monastic Life. Abbot Gasquet. 
 Fourth Edition. 
 
 English Seals. J. Harvey Bloom. 
 Folk-Lore as an Historical Science. 
 Sir G. L. Gomme. 
 
 Gilds and Companies of London, The. 
 George Unwin. 
 
 Manor and Manorial Records, The 
 Nathaniel J. Hone. Second Edition. 
 Mediaeval Hospitals of England, The. 
 Rotha Mary Clay. 
 
 Old English Instruments of Music. 
 
 F. W. Galpin. Second Edition. 
 
 Old English Libraries. James Hutt. 
 
 Old Service Books of the English 
 Church. Christopher Wordsworth, and 
 Henry Littlehales. Second Edition. 
 
 Parish Life in Medieval England. 
 
 Abbot Gasquet. Third Edition. 
 
 Parish Registers of England, The. 
 J. C. Cox. 
 
 Remains of the Pkehistortc Age in 
 England. B. C. A. Windle. Second 
 Edition . 
 
 Roman Era in Britain, The. J. Ward. 
 Romano-British Buildings and Earth- 
 works. J. Ward. 
 
 Royal Forests of England, The. J. C. 
 Cox. 
 
 Shrines of British Saints. J. C. Wall. 
 
General Literature 
 
 i3 
 
 The Arden Shakespeare. 
 
 Demy Svo. 2 s. 6d. net each volume. 
 
 An edition of Shakespeare in single Plays ; each edited with a full Introduction, 
 Textual Notes, and a Commentary at the foot of the page. 
 
 All’s Well That Ends Well. 
 Antony and Cleopatra. 
 
 Cymbeltne. 
 
 Comedy of Errors, The. 
 
 Hamlet. Third Edition . 
 
 Julius Caesar. 
 
 •King Henry iv. Pt. i. 
 
 King Henry v. 
 
 King Henry vi. Tt. i. 
 
 King Henry vi. Pt. ii. 
 
 King Henry vi. Pt. iii. 
 
 King Tear. 
 
 •King Richard it. 
 
 King Richard iii. 
 
 Life and Death of King John, The. 
 Love’s Labour's Lost. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 Merchant of Venice, The. 
 
 Merry Wives of Windsor, The. 
 Midsummer Night’s Dream, A. 
 Othello. 
 
 Pericles. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 Taming of the Shrew, Tiie. 
 Tempest, The. 
 
 Timon of Athens. 
 
 Titus Andronicus. 
 
 Troilus and Cressida. 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona, The. 
 Twelfth Night. 
 
 Venus and Adonis. 
 
 •Winter’s Tale, The. 
 
 Classics of Art. 
 
 Edited L>y Dr. J. II. W. LAING. 
 
 With numerous Illustrations . Wide Royal Svo. 
 
 The Art of the Greeks. H. B. Walters. 
 12 s. 6d. net. 
 
 The Art of the Romans. H. B. Walters. 
 15^. net . 
 
 Chardin. H. E. A. Furst. 12 s. 6d. net. 
 Donatello. Maud Cruttwell. 15s. net. 
 Florentine Sculptors of the Renais- 
 sance. Wilhelm Bode. Translated by 
 Jessie Haynes. i2.r. 6 d. net. 
 
 George Romney. Arthur B. Chamberlain. 
 12 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Ghirlandaio. Gerald S. Davies. Second 
 Edition, joj. 6 d. 
 
 Michelangelo. Gerald S. Davies. 12 s. 6 d. 
 net. 
 
 Rubens. Edward Dillon, 25J. net. 
 Raphael. A. P. Oppe. 125. 6d. net. 
 Rembrandt’s Etchings. A. M. Hind. 
 
 •Sir Thomas Lawrence. Sir Walter 
 Armstrong. 21J. net. 
 
 Titian. Charles Ricketts. 15T. net. 
 Tintoretto. Evelyn March Phillipps. 15J. 
 net. 
 
 Turner’s Sketches and Drawings. A. J. 
 
 Finberg. 12 s. 6d. net . Second Edition. 
 Velazquez. A. de Beruete. ioj. 6d. net . 
 
 The “ Complete ” Series. 
 
 Fully Illustrated. Demy Svo. 
 
 The Complete Billiard Player. Charles 
 Roberts, ioj. 6 d. net. 
 
 The Complete Cook. Lilian Whitling. 
 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 The Complete Cricketer. Albert E. 
 
 Knight. 7 s. 6 i. net. Second Edition. 
 
 The Complete Foxhunter. Charles Rich- 
 ardson. 12 s. 6d. net. Second Edition. 
 
 The Complete Golfer. Harry Vardon. 
 
 ioj. 6d. net. Twelfth Edition. 
 
 The Complete Hockey-Player. Eustace 
 E. White. 5J. net. Second Edition. 
 
 The Complete Lawn Tennis Player. 
 A. Wallis Myers, ioj. 6d. net. Third 
 Edition , Revised. 
 
 The Complete Motorist. Filson Young. 
 12s. 6d. net. New Edition {Seventh). 
 
 The Complete Mountaineer. G. D. 
 
 Abraham. 15J. net. Second Edition. 
 
 The Complete Oarsman. R. C. Lehmann. 
 1.0s. 6d. net. 
 
 The Complete Photographer. R. Child 
 Bayley. xos. 6 d. net. Fourth Edition. 
 The Complete Rugby Footballer, on the 
 New Zealand System. D. Gallaher and 
 W. J. Stead. 10 s. 6 d. net. Second Edition . 
 The Complete Shot. G. T. Teasdale- 
 Buckell. 12 s. 6d. net. Third Edition. 
 
 The Complete Swimmer. F. Sachs, js . 6 d . 
 net. 
 
 •The Complete Yachtsman. B. Heckstall- 
 Smith and E. du Boulay. 15$. net . 
 
14 
 
 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 The Connoisseur’s Library. 
 
 With numerous Illustrations . Wide 
 
 English Furniture. F. S. Robinson* 
 English Coloured Books. Martin Hardie. 
 Etchings. Sir F. Wedmore. Second Edition. 
 European Enamels; Henry H. Cunyng- 
 hame. 
 
 Glass. Edward Dillon. 
 
 Goldsmiths’ and Silversmiths* Work. 
 
 Nelson Dawson. Second Edition. 
 Illuminated Manuscripts. J. A. Herbert. 
 Second Edition. 
 
 Royal Svo. 25 s. net each volume. 
 
 Ivories. Alfred Maskell. 
 
 Jewellery. H. Clifford Smith. Second 
 
 Edition. 
 
 Mezzotints. Cyril Davenport. 
 
 Miniatures. Dudley Heath. 
 
 Porcelain. Edward Dillon. 
 
 *Fine Books. A. W. Pollard. 
 
 Seals. Walter de Gray Birch. 
 
 Wood Sculpture. Alfred Maskell. Second 
 Edition . 
 
 Edited by J. H. BURN. 
 
 The Foundations of the English Church. 
 J. H. Maude. 
 
 The Saxon Church and the Norman Con- 
 quest. C. T. Cruttwell. 
 
 The Mediaeval Church and the Papacy. 
 A. C. Jennings. 
 
 Handbooks 
 
 The Doctrine of the Incarnation. R. L. 
 Ottley. Fifth Edition , Revised. Demy 
 8 vo. 12 s. 6 d. 
 
 A History of Early Christian Doctrine. 
 
 J. F. Bethune- Baker. Demy 8z >0. ior. 6 d. 
 An Introduction to the History of 
 Religion. F. B. Jevons. Fifth Edition. 
 Demy Zvo. 10s. 6 d. 
 
 The “ Home 
 
 Illustrated . Demy 8vo. 
 
 Home Life in America. Katherine G. 
 
 Busbey. Second Edition. 
 
 Home Life in France. Miss Betham- 
 Edwards. Fifth Edition. 
 
 Home Life in Germany. Mrs. A. Sidgwick. 
 Second Edition. 
 
 Home Life in Holland. D. S. Meldrum. 
 Second Edition . 
 
 2s. 6d, net each volume . 
 
 The Reformation Period. Henry Gee. 
 The Struggle with Puritanism. Bruce 
 Blaxland. 
 
 The Church of England in the Eigh- 
 teenth Century. Alfred Plummer. 
 
 of Theology. 
 
 An Introduction to the History of the 
 Creeds. A. E. Burn. Demy 8 vo. 1 os. 6 d. 
 The Philosophy of Religion in England 
 and America. Alfred Caldecott. DemyZvd . 
 10s. (id. 
 
 The XXXIX Articles of the Church of 
 England. Edited by E. C. S. Gibson. 
 Seventh Edition. Demy Zvo. 12 s. 6 d. 
 
 ” Series. 
 
 6s. to ioj. 6d. net . 
 
 Home Life in Italy. Lina Duff Gordon. 
 Second Edition. 
 
 Home Life in Norway. H. K. Daniels. 
 
 Home Life in Russia. Dr. A. S. Rappoport. 
 
 Home Life in Spain. S. L. Bensusan, 
 Second Edition • 
 
 Handbooks of English Church History. 
 
 Crown 8 vo. 
 
 Life 
 
General Literature 
 
 i5 
 
 The Illustrated Pocket Library of Plain and Coloured Books. 
 
 Fcap. 8 vo. 3-f. 6d. net each volume . 
 
 WITH COLOURED 
 
 I Old Coloured Books. George Paston. 2 s. 
 net. 
 
 j The Life and Death of John Mytton, 
 
 ! Esq. Nimrod. Fifth Edition. 
 
 The Life of a Sportsman. Nimrod. 
 Handley Cross. R. S. Surtees. Fourth 
 I Edition. 
 
 Mr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour. R. S. 
 
 Surtees. Second Edition. 
 
 Jorrocks’s Jaunts and Jollities. R. S. 
 
 Surtees. Third Edition. 
 
 Ask. Mamma. R. S. Surtees. 
 
 The Analysis of the Hunting Field. 
 
 R. S. Surtees. 
 
 The Tour of Dr. Syntax in Search of 
 the Picturesque. William Combe. 
 
 The Tour of Dr. Syntax in Search of 
 Consolation. William Combe. 
 
 The Third Tour of Dr. Syntax in Search 
 of a Wife. William Combe. 
 
 The History of Johnny Quae Genus. 
 
 The Author of * The Three Tours.' 
 
 The English Dance of Death, from the 
 Designs of T. Rowlandson, with Metrical 
 Illustrations by the Author of ‘Doctor 
 Syntax/ Two Volumes . 
 
 illustrations. 
 
 The Dance of Life: A Poem. The Authoi 
 of ‘ Dr. Syntax/ 
 
 Life in London. Pierce Egan. 
 
 Real Life in London. An Amateur (Pierce 
 Egan). Two Volumes. 
 
 The Life of an Actor. Pierce Egan. 
 
 The Vicar of Wakefield. Oliver Gold- 
 smith. 
 
 The Military Adventures of Johnny 
 Newcome. An Officer. 
 
 The National Sports of Great Britain. 
 With Descriptions and 50 Coloured Plates by 
 Henry Aiken. 
 
 The Adventures of a Post Captain. 
 
 A Naval Officer. 
 
 Gamonia. Lawrence Rawstorne. 
 
 An Academy for Grown Horsemen. 
 
 Geoffrey Gambado. 
 
 Real Life in Ireland. A Real Paddy. 
 
 The Adventures of Johnny Newcome in 
 the Navy. Alfred Burton. 
 
 The Old English Squire. John Careless. 
 
 The English Spy. Bernard Blackmantle. 
 Two Volumes. 7 s. net. 
 
 WITH PLAIN ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The Grave: A Poem. Robert Blair. 
 Illustrations of the Book of Job. In- 
 vented and engraved by William Blake. 
 Windsor Castle. W. Harrison Ainsworth. 
 The Tower of London. W. Harrison 
 Ainsworth. 
 
 Frank Fairlegh. F. E. Smedley. 
 
 The Compleat Angler. Izaak Walton and 
 Charles Cotton. 
 
 The Pickwick Papers. Charles Dickens. 
 
 Leaders of Religion. 
 
 Edited by H. C. BEECHING. With Portraits. 
 Crown Svo. 
 
 Cardinal Newman. R. H. Hutton. 
 
 John Wesley. J. H. Overton. 
 
 Bishop Wilberforce. G. W. Daniell. 
 Cardinal Manning. A. W. Hutton. 
 Charles Simeon. H. C. G. Moule. 
 
 John Knox. F. MacCunn. Second Edition . 
 John Howe. R. F. Horton. 
 
 Thomas Ken. F. A. Clarke. 
 
 George Fox, the Quaker. T. Hodgkin. 
 
 Third Edition. 
 
 John Keble. Walter Lock. 
 
 2s, net each volume. 
 
 Thomas Chalmers. Mrs. Oliphant. Second 
 Edition. 
 
 Lancelot Andrewes. R. L. Ottley. Second 
 Edition. 
 
 Augustine of Canterbury. E. L. Cutts. 
 William Laud. W. H. Hutton. Third Ed, 
 John Donne. Augustus Jessop. 
 
 Thomas Cranmer. A. J. Mason. 
 
 Latimer. R. M. Carlyle and A. J, Carlyle. 
 Bishop Butler. W. A. Spooner. 
 
i6 
 
 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 The Library of Devotion. 
 
 With Introductions and (where necessary) Notes. 
 Small Pott 2>V0y cloth , 2 s. ; leathery 2 s. 6d. net each volume . 
 
 The Confessions ok St. Augustine. 
 
 Seventh Edition. 
 
 The Imitation of Christ. Sixth Edition. 
 The Christian Year. Fifth Edition. 
 
 Lyra Innocentium. Third Edition. 
 
 The Temple. Second Edition. 
 
 A Book of Devotions. Second Edition. 
 
 A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy 
 Life. Fourth Edition. 
 
 A Guide to Eternity. 
 
 The Inner Way. Second Edition. 
 
 On the Love of God. 
 
 The Psalms of David. 
 
 Lyra Apostolica. 
 
 The Song of Songs. 
 
 The Thoughts of Pascal. Second Edition. 
 
 A Manual of Consolation from the 
 Saints and Fathers. 
 
 Devotions from the Apocrypha. 
 
 The Spiritual Combat. 
 
 The Devotions of St. Anselm. 
 
 BiSHor Wilson’s Sacra Privata. 
 
 Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sin* 
 ners. 
 
 Lyra Sacra : A Book of Sacred Verse. 
 Second Edition. 
 
 A Day Book from the Saints and 
 Fathers. 
 
 A Little Book of Heavenly Wisdom. A 
 Selection from the English Mystics. 
 
 Light, Life, and Love. A Selection from 
 the German Mystics. 
 
 An Introduction to the Devout Life. 
 
 The Little Flowers of the Glorious 
 Messer St. Francis and of his Friars. 
 
 Death and Immortality. 
 
 The Spiritual Guide. Second Edition . 
 
 Devotions for Every Day in the Week 
 and the Great Festivals, 
 
 PRECES PRIVATAE. 
 
 Horae Mysticak : A Day Book from the 
 Writings of Mystics of Many Nations. 
 
 Little Books on Art. 
 
 With many Illustrations . Demy i6mo. 2s. 6d. net each volume. 
 
 Each volume consists of about 200 pages, and contains from 30 to 40 Illustrations, 
 including a Frontispiece in Photogravure. 
 
 Albrecht DOrer. L. J. Allen. 
 
 Arts of Japan, The. E. Dillon. Third 
 Edition. 
 
 Bookplates. E. Almack. 
 
 Botticelli. Mary L. Bonnor. 
 
 Burne-Jones. F. de Lisle. 
 
 Cellini. R. H. H. Cust. 
 
 Christian Symbolism. Mrs. H. Jenner. 
 Christ in Art. Mrs. H. Jenner. 
 
 Claude. E. Dillon. 
 
 Constable. H. W. Tompkins. Second 
 Edition. 
 
 Corot. A. Pollard and E. Birnstingl. 
 Enamels. Mrs. N. Dawson. Second Edition. 
 Frederic Leighton. A. Corkran. 
 
 George Romney. G. Paston. 
 
 Greek Art. H. B. Walters. Fourth Edition. 
 Greuze and Boucher. E. F. Pollard. 
 
 Holbein. Mrs. G. Fortescue. 
 
 Illuminated Manuscripts. J. W. Bradley. 
 Jewellery. C. Davenport. 
 
 John Hoppner. H. P. K. Skipton. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds. J. Sime. Second 
 Edition. 
 
 Millet. N. Peacock. 
 
 Miniatures. C. Davenport. 
 
 Our Lady in Art. Mrs. H. Jenner. 
 Raphael. A. R. Dryhurst. 
 
 Rembrandt. Mrs. E. A. Sharp. 
 
 *Rodin. Muriel Ciolkowska. 
 
 Turner. F. Tyrrell-Gill, 
 
 Vandyck. M. G. Smallwood. 
 
 Velazquez. W. Wilberforce and A. R. 
 Gilbert. 
 
 Watts. R. E. D. Sketchley. Second Edition. 
 
General Literature 
 
 17 
 
 The Little Galleries. 
 
 Demy ifatno. 2 s. 6d. net each volume . 
 
 Each volume contains 20 plates in Photogravure, together with a short outline cf 
 the life and work of the master to whom the book is devoted. 
 
 A Little Gallery of Reynolds. 
 A Little Gallery of Romney. 
 A Little Gallery of Hoppner. 
 
 A Little Gallery of Millais. 
 
 A Little Gallery of English Poets. 
 
 The Little Guides. 
 
 With many Illustrations by E. II. New and other artists, and from photographs. 
 
 Small Pott 8 vo, cloth, 2 s. 6 d. net ; leather, y. 6d. net, each volume. 
 
 The main features of these Guides are (1) a handy and charming form ; (2) illus- 
 trations from photographs and by well-known artists ; (3) good plans and maps ; (4) 
 an adequate but compact presentation of everything that is interesting in the 
 natural features, history, archeology, and architecture of the town or district treated. 
 
 Cambridge and its Colleges. A. H. 
 
 Thompson. Third Edition , Revised. 
 
 Channel Islands, The. E. E. Bicknell. 
 English Lakes, The. F. G. Brabant. 
 
 Isle of Wight, The. G. Clinch. 
 
 London. G. Clinch. 
 
 Malvern Country, The. B. C. A. Windle. 
 North Wales. A. T. Story. 
 
 Oxford and its Colleges. J. Wells. 
 Ninth Edition . 
 
 Shakespeare’s Country. B. C. A. Windle. 
 Fourth Edition. 
 
 St. Paul's Cathedral. G. Clinch. 
 Westminster Abbey, G. E. Troutbeck. 
 Second Edition. 
 
 Berkshire. F. G. Brabant. 
 Buckinghamshire. E. S. Roscoc, 
 Cheshire. W. M. Gallichan. 
 
 Cornwall. A. L. Salmon. 
 
 Derbyshire. J. C. Cox. 
 
 Devon. S. Baring-Gould. Second Edition. 
 Dorset. F. R. Heath. Second Edition . 
 Essex. J. C. Cox. 
 
 Hampshire. J. C. Cox. 
 
 Hertfordshire. H. W. Tompkins. 
 
 Kent. G. Clinch. 
 
 Kerry. C. P. Crane. 
 
 Leicestershire and Rutland. A Harvey 
 and V. B. Cxowther-Beynon. 
 
 Middlesex. J. B. Firth. 
 
 Monmouthshire. G. W. Wade and J. H. 
 Wade. 
 
 Norfolk. W. A. Dutt. Second Edition t 
 Revised. 
 
 Northamptonshire. W. Dry. Second Ed. 
 Northumberland. J. E. Morris. 
 Nottinghamshire. L. Guilford. 
 Oxfordshire. F. G. Brabant. 
 
 Shropshire. J. E. Auden. 
 
 Somerset. G. W. and J. H. Wade. Second 
 Edition. 
 
 Staffordshire. C. Masefield. 
 
 Suffolk. W. A. Dutt. 
 
 Surrey. J. C. Cox. 
 
 Sussex. F. G. Brabant. Third Edition. 
 Wiltshire. F. R. Heath. 
 
 Yorkshire, The East Riding. J. E. 
 Morris. 
 
 Yorkshire, The North Riding. J. E. 
 Morris. 
 
 Yorkshire, The West Riding. J. E. 
 Morris. Clothe 3^. 6 d. net ; leather , 4^. td. 
 net . 
 
 Brittany. S. Baring-Gould. 
 Normandy. C. Scudamore. 
 Rome. C. G. Ellaby. 
 
 Sicily. F. H. Jackson. 
 
1 8 
 
 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 The Little Library. 
 
 With Introductions, Notes, and Photogravure Frontispieces. 
 Small Pott 8 vo. Each Volume , cloth , ij. 6 d. net. 
 
 Anon. A LITTLE BOOK OF ENGLISH 
 LYRICS. Second Edition. 
 
 Austen (Jane). PRIDE AND PREJU- 
 DICE. Two Volumes. 
 
 NORTHANGER ABBEY. 
 
 Bacon (Francis). THE ESSAYS OF 
 LORD BACON. 
 
 Barham (R. H.). THE INGOLDSBY 
 LEGENDS. Two Volumes. 
 
 Barnett (Annie). A LITTLE BOOK OF 
 ENGLISH PROSE. 
 
 Beckford (William). THE HISTORY 
 OF THE CALIPH VATHEK. 
 
 Blake (William). SELECTIONS FROM 
 THE WORKS OF WILLIAM BLAKE. 
 
 Borrow (George). LAVENGRO. Two 
 
 Volumes. 
 
 THE ROMANY RYE. 
 
 Browning (Robert). SELECTIONS 
 FROM THE EARLY POEMS OF 
 ROBERT BROWNING. 
 
 Canning (George). SELECTIONS FROM 
 THE ANTI-JACOBIN ; with some later 
 Poems by George Canning. 
 
 Cowley (Abraham). THE ESSAYS OF 
 ABRAHAM COWLEY. 
 
 Crabbe (George). SELECTIONS FROM 
 THE POEMS OF GEORGE CRABBE. 
 
 Craik (Mrs.). JOHN HALIFAX, 
 GENTLEMAN. Two Volumes. 
 
 Crashaw (Richard). THE ENGLISH 
 POEMS OF RICHARD CRASHAW. 
 
 Dante Alighieri. THE INFERNO OF 
 DANTE. Translated by H. F. Cary. 
 
 THE PURGATORIO OF DANTE. Trans- 
 lated by H. F. Cary. 
 
 THE PARADISO OF DANTE. Trans- 
 lated by H. F. Cary. 
 
 Darley (George). SELECTIONS FROM 
 THE POEMS OF GEORGE DARLEY. 
 
 Deane (A. C.). A LITTLE BOOK OF 
 LIGHT VERSE. 
 
 Dickens(Charles), CHRISTMAS BOOKS, 
 
 Two Volumes. 
 
 Ferrier (Susan). MARRIAGE. Two 
 
 Volumes. 
 
 THE INHERITANCE. Two Volumes. 
 
 Gaskell (Mrs.). CRANFORD. Second Ed. 
 
 Hawthorne (Nathaniel). THE SCARLET 
 LETTER. 
 
 Henderson (T. F.). A LITTLE BOOK 
 OF SCOTTISH VERSE. 
 
 Kinglake (A. W.). EOTHEN. Second 
 
 Edition. 
 
 Lamb (Charles). ELIA, AND THE LAST 
 ESSAYS OF ELIA. 
 
 Locker (F.). LONDON LYRICS. 
 
 Marvell (Andrew). THE POEMS OF 
 ANDREW MARVELL. 
 
 Milton (John). THE MINOR POEMS OF 
 JOHN MILTON. 
 
 Moir CD. M.). MANSIE WAUCH. 
 
 Nichols (Bowyer). A LITTLE BOOK 
 OF ENGLISH SONNETS. 
 
 Smith (Horace and James). REJECTED 
 ADDRESSES. 
 
 Sterne (Laurence). A SENTIMENTAL 
 JOURNEY. 
 
 Tennyson (Alfred, Lord). THE EARLY 
 POEMS OF ALFRED, LORD TENNY- 
 SON. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 THE PRINCESS. 
 
 MAUD. 
 
 Thackeray (W. M.). VANITY FAIR. 
 
 Three Volumes. 
 
 PENDENNIS. Three Volumes. 
 
 HENRY ESMOND. 
 
 CHRISTMAS BOOKS. 
 
 Vaughan (Henry). THE POEMS OF 
 HENRY VAUGHAN. 
 
 Waterhouse (Elizabeth). A LITTLE 
 BOOK OF LIFE AND DEATH. 
 Thirteenth Edition . 
 
 Wordsworth (W.). SELECTIONS FROM 
 THE POEMS OF WILLIAM WORDS- 
 WORTH. 
 
 Wordsworth (W.) and Coleridge (S. T.L 
 LYRICAL BALLADS. Second Edition. 
 
General Literature 
 
 19 
 
 The Little Quarto Shakespeare. 
 
 Edited by W. J. CRAIG. With Introductions and Notes. 
 Pott 16 mo. In 40 Volumes . Leather , price is. net each volume . 
 Mahogany Revolving Book Case . 10s, net • 
 
 Miniature Library. 
 
 Demy 32 0/0. Leather , I*, net each volume . 
 
 Euphranor : A Dialogue on Youth. Edward 
 FitzGerald. 
 
 The Life of Edward, Lord Herbert of 
 Cherbury. Written by himself. 
 
 Polonius: or Wise Saws and Modern In- 
 stances. Edward FitzGerald. 
 
 The RubAiyAt of Omar KhayyAm. Edward 
 FitzGerald. Fourth Edition. 
 
 The New Library of Medicine. 
 
 Edited by C. W. SALEEBY. Demy 8 vo. 
 
 Care of the Body, The. F. Cavanagh. 
 Second Edition. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Children of the Nation, The. The Right 
 Hon. Sir John Gorst. Second Edition. 
 JS. 6 d. net. 
 
 Control of a Scourge : or » Cancer 
 
 is Curable, The. Cbas. P. ChUde. 7 s. 6 d. 
 net > 
 
 Diseases of Occupation. Sir Thomas Oliver, 
 jpy. 6 d< net . Second Edition. 
 
 Drink Problem, in its Medico-Sociological 
 Aspects, The. Edited by T, N, Kelynack. 
 7*. 6 d. net . 
 
 Drugs and the Drug Habit. H. Sainsbury. 
 
 Functional Nerve Diseases. A. T. Scho- 
 field. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Hygiene of Mind, The. T. S. Clouston. 
 Fifth Edition. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Infant Mortality. Sir George Newman. 
 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Prevention of Tuberculosis (Consump- 
 tion), The. Arthur Newsholme. 10s. 6 d. 
 net. Second Edition. 
 
 Air and Health. Ronald C. Macfie. 7*. 6 d. 
 net. Second Edition. 
 
 The New Library of Music. 
 
 Edited by ERNEST NEWMAN. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 JSrahms. J, A. Fuller-Maitiand. Second 
 Edition . 
 
 Handel. R. A. Streatfeild. Second Edition . 
 Hugo Wolf. Ernest Newman. 
 
 Oxford Biographies. 
 
 Illustrated. Fcap. 8 vo. Each volume , cloth, 
 
 Dante Alighieri. Paget Toynbee. Third 
 Edition. 
 
 Girolamo Savonarola. E. L. S. Horsburgh, 
 Fourth Edition. 
 
 John Howard. E. C. 3. Gibson. 
 
 Alfred Tennyson. A. C. Benson. Second 
 Edition. 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh. I. A, Taylor. 
 .Erasmus. E. F. H. Capey, 
 
 2 s. 6d. net ; leather , 3^. 6d. net. 
 
 The Young Pretender. C. S. Terry. 
 Robert Burns. T. F. Henderson. 
 Chatham. A. S. McDowall. 
 
 Francis of Assisi. Anna M. Stoddart. 
 Canning. W. Alison Phillips. 
 Beaconsfield. Walter Sichel, 
 
 Johann Wolfgang Goethe. H. G. Atkins. 
 Francois p.e F£nelon. Viscount St. Cyres. 
 
22 
 
 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 Some Books on Art — continued '. 
 
 One Hundred Masterpieces of Sculpture. 
 With an Introduction by G. F. Hill. Illus- 
 trated. Demy Zz >o. 10s. 6d. net. 
 
 A Romney Folio. With an Essay by A. B. 
 Chamberlain. Imperial Folio. 15X. 
 
 net. 
 
 The Saints in Art. Margaret E. Tabor. 
 
 Illustrated. Fcap . 8 vo. y. 6d. net. 
 Schools of Painting. Mary Innes. Illus- 
 trated. Cr. 8 vo. 5*. net. 
 
 The Post Impressionists. C. Lewis Hind. 
 
 Illustrated. Royal 8z to. 7s. 6d. net. 
 Celtic Art in Pagan and Christian Times. 
 J. R. Allen. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 “Classics of Art.’* See page 13. 
 
 “ The Connoisseur’s Library.” See page 14, 
 “ Little Books on Art.” See page 16. 
 “The Little Galleries.” See page 17. 
 
 Some Books on Italy. 
 
 A History of Milan under the Sforza. 
 Cecilia M. Ady. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 
 10s. 6d. net. 
 
 A History of Verona. A. M. Allen. 
 
 Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 12 s. 6d. net. 
 
 A History of Perugia. William Heywood. 
 
 Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 12s. 6 d. net. 
 
 The Lakes of Northern Italy. Richard 
 Bagot. Illustrated. Fcap. 8 vo. 5 s. net. 
 Woman in Italy. W. Boulting. Illustrated. 
 
 Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Old Etruria and Modern Tuscany. Mary 
 L. Cameron. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. net. 
 
 Florence and the Cities of Northern 
 Tuscany, with Genoa. Edward Hutton. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. 87 >0. 6s. 
 
 Siena and Southern Tuscany. Edward 
 Hutton. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. &s. 
 
 In Unknown Tuscany. Edward Hutton. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy 8 vo. 
 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Venice and Venetia. Edward Hutton. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 Venice on Foot. H. A. Douglas. Illustrated. 
 Fcap. 8 vo. 5^. net. 
 
 Venice and Her Treasures. H. A. 
 
 Douglas. Illustrated. Fcap. 8 vo. 5 s. net. 
 ♦The Doges of Venice. Mrs. Aubrey 
 Richardson. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 1 os. 6d. 
 net . 
 
 Florence: Her History and Art to the Fall 
 of the Republic. F. A. Hyett. Demy Zvo. 
 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Florence and Her Treasures. H. M. 
 
 Vaughan. Illustrated. Fcap. Zvo. 5 j. net. 
 Country Walks about Florence. Edward 
 Hutton. Illustrated. Fcap. Zvo. 5J. net. 
 Naples: Past and Present. A. H. Norway. 
 
 Illustrated. Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 The Naples Riviera. H. M. Vaughan. 
 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 Sicily : The New Winter Resort. Douglas 
 Sladen. Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. 
 Zvo. 5 s. net. 
 
 Sicily. F. H. Jackson. Illustrated. Small 
 Pott Zvo. Cloth , 2 s. 6d. net ; leather , 3 s. 6 d. 
 net. 
 
 Rome. Edward Hutton. Illustrated. Second 
 Edition. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 A Roman Pilgrimage. R. E. Roberts. 
 
 Illustrated. Demy Zvo. ior. 6 d. net. 
 
 Rome. C. G. Ellaby. Illustrated. Small 
 Pott Zvo. Cloth , 2s. 6d. net ; leather , 3Y. 6 d. 
 net. 
 
 The Cities of Umbria. Edward Hutton. 
 
 Illustrated. Fourth Edition. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 ♦The Cities of Lombardy. Edward Hutton. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. 87 >0. 6s. 
 
 The Lives of S. Francis of Assisi. 
 
 Brother Thomas of Celano. Cr. Zvo. 5.1. 
 vet . 
 
 Lorenzo the Magnificent. E. L. S. 
 Horsburgh. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Demy Zvo. 15 s. net. 
 
 Girolamo Savonarola. E. L. S. Horsburgh. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 5J. net. 
 
 St. Catherine of Siena and Her Times. 
 By the Author of “ Mdlle Mori.” Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Demy Zvo. 7 s. 6d. net. 
 Dante and his Italy. Lonsdale Ragg. 
 
 Illustrated. Demy Zvo. 12 s. 6d. net. 
 Dante Alighieri : His Life and Works. 
 Paget Toynbee. Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 5 s. 
 net. 
 
 The Medici Popes. H. M. Vaughan. Illus- 
 trated. Demy Zvo. 15.L net. 
 
 Shelley and His Friends in Italy. Helen 
 R. Angeli. Illustrated. Demy Zvo. 10 s.6d. 
 net. 
 
 Home Life in Italy. Lina Duff Gordon. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy Zvo. 
 10 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Skies Italian : A Little Breviary for Travellers 
 in Italy. Ruth S. Phelps. Fcap. Zvo. 5*. 
 net. 
 
 *A Wanderer in Florence. E. V. Lucas. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 ♦United Italy. F. M. Underwood. Demy 
 Zvo. 10s. 6d. net. 
 
Fiction 
 
 23 
 
 
 Part III. — A Selection of Works of Fiction 
 
 Albanesi (E. Maria). SUSANNAH AND 
 ONE OTHER. Fourth Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6 s. 
 
 I LOVE AND LOUISA. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 87 > 0 . 6s. 
 
 THE BROWN EYES OF MARY. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 I KNOW A MAIDEN. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 87 >o. 6s. 
 
 THE INVINCIBLE AMELIA: or, The 
 Polite Adventuress. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 z > 0 . 2 s ' &d. 
 
 THE GLAD HEART. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ♦OLIVIA MARY. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Bagot (Richard). A ROMAN MYSTERY. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE PASSPORT. Fourth Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ANTHONY CUTHBERT. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 LOVE’S PROXY. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 DONNA DIANA. Second Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 CASTING OF NETS. Twelfth Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF SERRAVALLE. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Bailey (H. C.). STORM AND TREASURE. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE LONELY QUEEN. Third Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Baring-Gould (S.). IN THE ROAR 
 OF THE SEA. Eighth Edition. Cr. Svo. 
 6s. 
 
 MARGERY OF QUETHER. Second 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE QUEEN OF LOVE. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 JACQUETTA. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 KITTY ALONE. Fifth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 NOEMI. Illustrated. F'ourth Edition. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE BROOM - SQUIRE. Illustrated. 
 
 Fifth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6 s. 
 DARTMOOR IDYLLS. Cr. 8 vo. 6 s. 
 GUAVAS THE TINNER. Illustrated. 
 
 Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 BLADYS OF THE STEWPONEY. Illus- 
 trated. Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 PABO THE PRIEST. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 WINEFRED. Illustrated. Secotid Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 ROYAL GEORGIE. Illustrated. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 CHRIS OF ALL SORTS. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 IN DEWISLAND. Second Edition. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. 
 Fifth Edition . Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Barr (Robert). IN THE MIDST OF 
 ALARMS. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 THE COUNTESS TEKLA. Fifth 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE MUTABLE MANY. Third Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Begbie (Harold). THE CURIOUS AND 
 DIVERTING ADVENTURES OF SIR 
 JOHN SPARROW, Bart. ; or, The 
 Progress of an Open Mind. Second 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Belloc (H.). EMMANUEL BURDEN, 
 MERCHANT. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 A CHANGE IN THE CABINET. Third 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Belloc-Lowndes (Mrs.), THE CHINK 
 IN THE ARMOUR. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 ♦MARY PECHELL. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Bennett (Arnold). CL AYH ANGER. 
 
 Tenth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE CARD. Sixth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 HILDA LESSWAYS. Seventh Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 * BURIED ALIVE. A New Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 A MAN FROM THE NORTH. A New 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE MATADOR OF THE FIVE TOWNS. 
 Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Benson (E. F.). DODO : A Detail of the 
 Day. Sixteenth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Birmingham (George A.). SPANISH 
 
 GOLD. Sixth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 THE SEARCH PARTY. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 LALAGE’S LOVERS. Third Edition. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 Bowen (Marjorie). I WILL MAIN- 
 TAIN. Seventh Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 DEFENDER OF THE FAITH. Fifth 
 Editioti. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 *A KNIGHT OF SPAIN. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 THE QUEST OF GLORY. Third Edi- 
 tion. Cr. Svo. 6 s. 
 
 GOD AND THE KING. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Clifford (Mrs. W. K.). THE GETTING 
 WELL OF DOROTHY. Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 3 s. 6 d. 
 
 Conrad (Joseph). THE SECRETAGENT : 
 
 A Simple Tale. Fourth Ed. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 A SET OF SIX. Fourth Edition. Cr.Svo. 6s. 
 UNDER WESTERN EYES. Second Ed. 
 Cr. Svo . 6s. 
 
22 
 
 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 Some Books on Art — continued . 
 
 One Hundred Masterpieces of Sculpture. 
 With an Introduction by G. F. Hill. Illus* 
 trated. Demy 8 vo. io s. 6d. net. 
 
 A Romney Folio. With an Essay by A. B. 
 Chamberlain. hnperial Folio. ^15 15J. 
 net. 
 
 The Saints in Art. Margaret E. Tabor. 
 
 Illustrated. Fcap. Zvo. 3J. 6d. net. 
 Schools of Painting. Mary Innes. Illus- 
 trated. Cr. Zvo. 5jt. net. 
 
 The Post Impressionists. C. Lewis Hind. 
 
 Illustrated. Royal 8z >0. ys. 6d. net. 
 
 Celtic Art in Pagan and Christian Times. 
 J. R. Allen. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Demy 8 vo. 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 “Classics of Art.” See page 13. 
 
 “The Connoisseur's Library.” See page 14, 
 “ Little Books on Art.” See page 16. 
 “The Little Galleries.” See page 17. 
 
 Some Books on Italy. 
 
 A History of Milan under the Sforza. 
 Cecilia M. Ady. Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 
 ioj. 6 d. net . 
 
 A History of Verona. A. M. Allen. 
 
 Illustrated. Demy Zvo. 12s.6d.net. 
 
 A History of Perugia. William Heywood. 
 
 Illustrated. Demy 8 vo. 12s. 6d. 7ict. 
 
 The Lakes of Northern Italy. Richard 
 Bagot. Illustrated. Fcap. 8 vo. 5 s. net. 
 Woman in Italy. W. Boulting. Illustrated. 
 
 Demy 8 vo. 10 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Old Etruria and Modern Tuscany. Mary 
 L. Cameron. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. net. 
 
 Florence and the Cities of Northern 
 Tuscany, with Genoa. Edward Hutton. 
 Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 Siena and Southern Tuscany. Edward 
 Hutton. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 In Unknown Tuscany. Edward Hutton. 
 Illustrated. Seco?td Edition. Demy Zvo. 
 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 Venice and Venetia. Edward Hutton. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 Venice on Foot. H. A. Douglas. Illustrated. 
 Fcap. Zvo. 5 s. net . 
 
 Venice and Her Treasures. H. A. 
 
 Douglas. Illustrated. Fcap. Zvo. 5 s. net. 
 •The Doges of Venice. Mrs. Aubrey 
 Richardson. Illustrated. Demy Zvo. 10s. 6d. 
 net . 
 
 Florence: Her History and Art to the Fall 
 of the Republic. F. A. Hyett. Demy Zvo. 
 7 s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Florence and Her Treasures. H. M. 
 
 Vaughan. Illustrated. Fcap. Zvo. 5s. 7ict. 
 Country Walks about Florence. Edward 
 Hutton. Illustrated. Fcap. Zvo. 5^. net. 
 Naples : Past and Present. A. H. Norway. 
 
 Illustrated. Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 The Naples Riviera. H. M. Vaughan. 
 
 Illustrated. Second Editio7i. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 Sicily; The New Winter Resort. Douglas 
 Sladen. Illustrated. Second Editio7i. Cr. 
 Zvo . $s. net. 
 
 Sicily. F. H. Jackson. Illustrated. Small 
 Pott Zvo. Cloth , 2 s. 6d. net ; leather , 3 s. 6d. 
 net. 
 
 Rome. Edward Hutton. Illustrated. Secotid 
 Edition. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 A Roman Pilgrimage. R. E. Roberts. 
 
 Illustrated. Demy Zvo. ior. 6 d. net. 
 
 Rome. C. G. Ellaby. Illustrated. Small 
 Pott Zvo. Clotky 2 s. 6d. 7iet ; leathery 3^. 6 d. 
 net. 
 
 The Cities of Umbria. Edward Hutton. 
 
 Illustrated. Fourth Edition. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 •The Cities of Lombardy. Edward Hutton. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 The Lives of S. Francis of Assisi. 
 Brother Thomas of Celano. Cr. Zvo. s s . 
 
 7 ret. 
 
 Lorenzo the Magnificent. E. L. S. 
 Horsburgh. Illustrated. Second Editio7i. 
 Demy Zvo. 15L, net. 
 
 Girolamo Savonarola. E. L. S. Horsburgh. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 5 s. net. 
 
 St. Catherine of Siena and Her Times. 
 By the Author of “ Mdlle Mori.” Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Demy Zvo. 7 s. 6d. net. 
 Dante and his Italy. Lonsdale Ragg. 
 
 Illustrated. Demy Zvo. 12s. 6d. 7iet. 
 Dante Alighieri : His Life and Works. 
 Paget Toynbee. Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 5 ,y. 
 net. 
 
 The Medici Popes. H. M. Vaughan. Illus- 
 trated. De7ny Zvo. 15^. 7 iet. 
 
 Shelley and His Friends in Italy. Helen 
 R. Angeli. Illustrated. Demy Zvo. 1 os. 6d. 
 
 7 iet. 
 
 Home Life in Italy. Lina Duff Gordon. 
 Illustrated. Second Editiofi. Demy Zvo. 
 10s. 6 d. net. 
 
 Skies Italian : A little Breviary for Travellers 
 in Italy. Ruth S. Phelps. Fcap. Zvo. 5$. 
 net. 
 
 *A Wanderer in Florence. E. V. Lucas. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 •United Italy. F. M. Underwood. Demy 
 Zvo. 10s. 6d. 7iet. 
 
Fiction 
 
 23 
 
 Part III. — A Selection of Works of Fiction 
 
 Albanesi (E. Maria). SUSANNAH AND 
 ONE OTHER. Fourth Edition . Cr. 
 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 LOVE AND LOUISA. Second Edition . 
 Cr. 8r to. 6s. 
 
 THE BROWN EYES OF MARY. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 I KNOW A MAIDEN. Third Edition . 
 Cr. 87 > 0 . 6s. 
 
 THE INVINCIBLE AMELIA: or, The 
 Polite Adventuress. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8vo. 3 f. 6d. 
 
 THE GLAD HEART. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6t. 
 
 ♦OLIVIA MARY. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Bagot (Richard). A ROMAN MYSTERY. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE PASSPORT. Fourth Edition. Cr. 
 
 8 vo. 6j. 
 
 ANTHONY CUTHBERT. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 LOVE’S PROXY. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 DONNA DIANA. Second Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 CASTING OF NETS. Twelfth Edition. 
 Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF SERRAVALLE. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Bailey (H.C.). STORM AND TREASURE. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8 z>o. 6s. 
 
 THE LONELY QUEEN. Third Edition. 
 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Baring-Gould (S.). IN THE ROAR 
 OF THE SEA. Eighth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 
 6s. 
 
 MARGERY OF QUETHER. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE QUEEN OF LOVE. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 JACQUETTA. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 KITTY ALONE. Fifth Edition. Cr.Svo. 6s. 
 NOEMI. Illustrated. F'ourth Edition. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE BROOM - SQUIRE. Illustrated. 
 
 Fifth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 DARTMOOR IDYLLS. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 GUAVAS THE TINNER. Illustrated. 
 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 BLADYS OF THE STEWPONEY. Illus- 
 trated. Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 PABO THE PRIEST. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 WINEFRED. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 ROYAL GEORGIE. Illustrated. Cr. Svo.6s. 
 CHRIS OF ALL SORTS. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 IN DEWISLAND. Second Edition. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. 
 Fifth Edition . Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Barr (Robert). IN THE MIDST OF 
 ALARMS. Third Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 THE COUNTESS TEKLA. Fifth 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE MUTABLE MANY. Third Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Begbie (Harold). THE CURIOUS AND 
 DIVERTING ADVENTURES OF SIR 
 JOHN SPARROW, Bart. ; or, The 
 Progress of an Open Mind. Second 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Belloc (H.). EMMANUEL BURDEN, 
 MERCHANT. Illustrated. Second Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 A CHANGE IN THE CABINET. Third 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Belloc-Lowndes (Mrs.), THE CHINK 
 IN THE ARMOUR. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 ♦MARY PECHELL. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Bennett (Arnold). CLAYH ANGER. 
 
 'Tenth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s, 
 
 THE CARD. Sixth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 HILDA LESSWAYS. Seventh Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 * BURIED ALIVE. A New Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 A MAN FROM THE NORTH. A New 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE MATADOR OF THE FIVE TOWNS. 
 Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Benson (E. F.). DODO : A Detail of thk 
 Day. Sixteenth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Birmingham (George A.). SPANISH 
 
 GOLD. Sixth Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 THE SEARCH PARTY. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 LAL AGE’S LOVERS. Third Edition. Cr. 
 Svo. 6s. 
 
 Bowen (Marjorie). I WILL MAIN- 
 TAIN. Seventh Edition. Cr. Svo. 6 x. 
 DEFENDER OF THE FAITH. Fifth 
 Edition. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 *A KNIGHT OF SPAIN. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 THE QUEST OF GLORY. Third Edi- 
 tion. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 GOD AND THE KING. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
 Clifford (Mrs. W. K-). THE GETTING 
 WELL OF DOROTHY. Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Cr. Svo. 3 s. 6 d. 
 
 Conrad (Joseph). THE SECRETAGENT : 
 
 A Simple Tale. Fourth Ed. Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 A SET OF SIX. Fourth Edition. Cr.Svo. 6s. 
 UNDER WESTERN EYES. Second Ed. 
 Cr. Svo. 6s. 
 
2 i Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 •Conyers (Dorothea.). THE LONELY 
 MAN. Cr. 8 vo. 6j r. 
 
 Corelli (Marie). A ROMANCE OF TWO 
 WORLDS. Thirty-first Ed. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 VENDETTA ; or, The Story of one For- 
 gotten. Twenty-ninth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 
 6s. 
 
 THELMA : A Norwegian Princess. 
 
 Forty-second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 ARDATH : The Story of a Dead Self. 
 
 Twentieth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE SOUL OF LILITH. Seventeenth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 WORMWOOD : A Drama of Paris. 
 
 Eighteenth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 BARABBAS : A Dream of the World’s 
 Tragedy. Forty-sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 
 6s. 
 
 THE SORROWS OF SATAN. Fifty-seventh 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE MASTER-CHRISTIAN. Thirteenth 
 Edition, x'j^th Thousand. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 TEMPORAL POWER ; A Study in 
 Supremacy. Second Edition. i$oth 
 Thousand. Cr. 8 vo. 6f. 
 
 GOD’S GOOD MAN : A Simple Love 
 
 Story. Fifteenth Edition. 154 th Thou- 
 sand. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 HOLY ORDERS : the Tragedy of a 
 Quiet Life. Second Edition. 120th 
 Thousand. Crown 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE MIGHTY ATOM. Twenty-ninth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 BOY : a Sketch. Twelfth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 
 6s. 
 
 CAMEOS. Fourteenth Edition. Cr.8vo. 6s. 
 THE LIFE EVERLASTING. Fifth Ed. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Crockett (S. R.). LOCHINVAR. Illus- 
 trated. Third Edition . Cr. 8z >0. 6s. 
 
 THE STANDARD BEARER. Second 
 Edition . Cr. 8 vo. 6f. 
 
 Croker (B. M.). THE OLD CANTON- 
 MENT. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 JOHANNA. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 THE HAPPY VALLEY. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 A NINE DAYS’ WONDER. Fourth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 PEGGY OF THE BARTONS. Seventh 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ANGEL. Fifth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 KATHERINE THE ARROGANT. Sixth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 BABES IN THE WOOD. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Danby (Frank.). JOSEPH IN JEO- 
 PARDY. Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Doyle (Sir A. Conan). ROUND THE RED 
 LAMP. Twelfth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Fenn (G. Manville). SYD BELTON: 
 The Boy who would not go to Sea. 
 Illustrated. Second Ed. Cr. 8 vo. 3s, 6d. 
 
 Findlater (J. H.). THE GREEN GRAVES 
 OF BALGOWRIE. Fifth Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE LADDER TO THE STARS. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Findlater (Mary). A NARROW WAY. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 OVER THE HILLS. Second Edition. Cr. 
 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE ROSE OF JOY. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 A BLIND BIRD’S NEST. Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Fry (B. and C. B-). A MOTHER’S SON. 
 Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Harraden (Beatrice). IN VARYING 
 
 MOODS. Fourteenth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 HILDA STRAFFORD and THE REMIT- 
 TANCE MAN. Twelfth Ed. Cr.8vo. 6s. 
 INTERPLAY. Fifth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Hichens (Robert). THE PROPHET OF 
 BERKELEY SQUARE. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 TONGUES OF CONSCIENCE. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE WOMAN WITH THE FAN. Eighth 
 Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 BYEWAYS. Cr.Svo. 6s. 
 
 THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. Twenty 
 first Edition. Cr. 81 >0. 6s. 
 
 THE BLACK SPANIEL. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 THE CALL OF THE BLOOD. Seventh 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 BARBARY SHEEP. Second Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 3 s. 6d. 
 
 THE DWELLER ON THE THRES- 
 HOLD. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Hope (Anthony). THE GOD IN THE 
 
 CAR. Eleventh Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 A CHANGE OF AIR. Sixth Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 A MAN OF MARK. Seventh Ed. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT AN- 
 TONIO. Sixth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 PHROSO. Illustrated. Eighth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 SIMON DALE. Illustrated. Eighth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE KING’S MIRROR. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 QUISANTE. Fourth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 THE DOLLY DIALOGUES. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 TALES OF TWO PEOPLE. Third Edi- 
 tion. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE GREAT MISS DRIVER. Fourth 
 Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 MRS. MAXON PROTESTS. Third Edi- 
 tion. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Hutten (Baroness von). THE HALO. 
 
 Fifth Edition, Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
Fiction 
 
 'Inner Shrine' (Author of the). THE 
 WILD OLIVE. Third Edition. Cr. Bvo. 
 
 6 s. 
 
 Jacobs (W. W.). MANY CARGOES. 
 
 Thirty-second Edition. Cr. 8r o. 3s. 6d. 
 •Also Illustrated in colour. Demy 8 vo. 
 7 s. 6d. net. 
 
 SEA URCHINS. Sixteenth Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 3 s. 6 d. 
 
 A MASTER OF CRAFT. Illustrated. 
 
 Ninth Edition. Cr. Bvo. 3 x. 6d. 
 
 LIGHT FREIGHTS. Illustrated. Eighth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 3 s. 6 d. 
 
 THE SKIPPER’S WOOING. Eleventh 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. v. 6 d. 
 
 AT SUNWICH PORT. Illustrated. Tenth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 3 s. 6d. 
 DIALSTONELANE. Illustrated. Eighth 
 Edition. Cr. 8i>o. 3s. 6d. 
 
 ODD CRAFT. Illustrated. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 3*. 6 d. 
 
 THE LADY OF THE BARGE. Illustrated. 
 
 Ninth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 3*. 6d. 
 SALTHAVEN. Illustrated. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 3 x. 6d. 
 
 SAILORS' KNOTS. Illustrated. Fifth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 3s. 6 d. 
 
 SHORT CRUISES. : Third Edition. Cr. 
 Bvo. 3 s. 6d. 
 
 James (Henry). THE GOLDEN BOWL. 
 Third Editio?i. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Le Queux (William). THE HUNCHBACK 
 OF WESTMINSTER. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE CLOSED BOOK. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 
 
 Illustrated. Third Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 BEHIND THE THRONE. Third Edition. 
 Cr. Bvo . 6s. 
 
 London (Jack). WHITE FANG. Eighth 
 Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Lucas (E. V.). LISTENER’S LURE ; An 
 Oblique Narration. Eighth Edition . 
 Fcap. Bvo. 5 s. 
 
 OVER BEMERTON’S : An Easy-going 
 Chronicle. Ninth Edition. Fcap 8 vo. 5s. 
 MR. INGLESIDE. Eighth Edition. Fcap. 
 8 vo. 5 s. 
 
 LONDON LAVENDER. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Lyall (Edna). DERRICK VAUGHAN, 
 NOVELIST. 44 th Thousand. Cr. 8 vo. 
 3 s. 6 d. 
 
 Macnaughtan (S-). THE FORTUNE OF 
 CHRISTINA M’NAB. Fifth Edition. 
 Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 PETER AND JANE. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Malet (Lucas). A COUNSEL OF PER- 
 FECTION. Second Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 25 
 
 THE WAGES OF SIN. Sixteenth Edition. 
 Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 THE CARISSIMA. Fifth Ed. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 THE GATELESS BARRIER. Fifth Edi- 
 tion. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Maxwell (W. B.). THE RAGGED MES- 
 SENGER. Third Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 THE GUARDED FLAME. Seventh Edi- 
 tion. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 ODD LENGTHS. Second Ed. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 HILL RISE. Fourth Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 THE COUNTESS OF MAYBURY: Be- 
 tween You and I. Fourth Edition. Cr. 
 Bvo. 6s. 
 
 THE REST CURE. Fourth Edition. Cr. 
 Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Milne (A. A.). THE DAY’S PLAY. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 •THE HOLIDAY ROUND. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Montague (C. E.). A HIND LET 
 
 LOOSE. Third Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Morrison (Arthur). TALES OF MEAN 
 STREETS. Seventh Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 A CHILD OF THE JAGO. Sixth Edition. 
 Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 THE HOLE IN THE WALL. Fourth Edi- 
 tion. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 DIVERS VANITIES. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Ollivant (Alfred). OWD BOB, THE 
 GREY DOG OF KENMUIR. With a 
 Frontispiece. Eleventh Ed. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 THE TAMING OF JOHN BLUNT. 
 
 Second Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 •THE ROYAL ROAD. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Onions (Oliver). GOOD BOY SELDOM : 
 A Romance of Advertisement. Second 
 Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6f. 
 
 Oppenheim (E. Phillips). MASTER OF 
 
 MEN. Fifth Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 THE MISSING DELORA. Illustrated. 
 Fourth Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Orczy (Baroness). FIRE IN STUBBLE. 
 Fifth Edition. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 Oxenham (John). A WEAVER OF 
 WEBS. Illustrated. Fifth Ed. Cr.Bvo. 6s. 
 PROFIT AND LOSS. T our th Edition. 
 Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 THE LONG ROAD. Fourth Edition. Cr. 
 8 z>o. 6s. 
 
 THE SONG OF HYACINTH, and 
 Other Stories. Second Edition . Cr. 
 Bvo. 6s. 
 
 MY LADY OF SHADOWS. Fourth Edi- 
 tion. Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
 LAUR1STONS. Fourth Edition. Cr. Bvo. 
 6s. 
 
 THE COIL OF CARNE. Sixth Edition. 
 Cr. Bvo. 6.9. 
 
 •THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN ROSE. 
 Cr. Bvo. 6s. 
 
26 
 
 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 Parker (Gilbert). PIERRE AND HIS 
 
 PEOPLE. Seventh Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 MRS. FALCHION. Fifth Edition. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE. 
 
 Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. Illus- 
 trated. Tenth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6r. 
 WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC : 
 The Story of a Lost Napoleon. Seventh 
 Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH. 
 The Last Adventures of ‘ Pretty Pierre.’ 
 Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG: a 
 Romance of Two Kingdoms. Illustrated. 
 Seventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE POMP OF THE LAVILETTES. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8vq. 3T. 6d. 
 NORTHERN LIGHTS. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Pasture (Mrs. Henry de la). THE 
 
 TYRANT. Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Pemberton (Max). THE FOOTSTEPS 
 OF A THRONE. Illustrated. Fourth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 I CROWN THEE KING. Illustrated. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 LOVE THE HARVESTER: A Story of 
 the Shires. Illustrated. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE GREEN 
 HEART. Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Perrin (Alice). THE CHARM. Fifth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ♦THE ANGLO-INDIANS. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Phillpotts (Eden). LYING PROPHETS. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 CHILDREN OF THE MIST. Sixth Edi- 
 tion. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE HUMAN BOY. With a Frontispiece. 
 
 Seventh Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 SONS OF THE MORNING. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE RIVER. Fourth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 THE AMERICAN PRISONER. Fourth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 KNOCK AT A VENTURE. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE PORTREEVE. Fourth Edition .. Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE POACHER’S WIFE. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE STRIKING HOURS. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 DEMETER’S DAUGHTER. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Pickthall (Marmaduke). SAID THE 
 FISHERMAN. Eighth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 
 6s. 
 
 ‘Q’ (A. T. Quiller Couch). THE WHITE 
 WOLF. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE MAYOR OF TROY. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 MERRY-GARDEN and other Stories. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s 
 
 MAJOR VIGOUREUX. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Ridge (W. Pett). ERB. Second Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 A SON OF THE STATE. Third Edition. 
 
 Cr. 8 vo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 A BREAKER OF LAWS. Cr. 8 vo. 3s. 6d. 
 MRS. GALER’S BUSINESS. Illustrated. 
 
 Second Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE WICKHAMSES. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 NAME OF GARLAND. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8v*. 6s. 
 
 SPLENDID BROTHER. Fourth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 NINE TO SIX-THIRTY. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THANKS TO SANDERSON. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ♦DEVOTED SPARKES. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Russell (W. Clark). MASTER ROCKA- 
 FELLAR’S VOYAGE. Illustrated. 
 Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3 s. 6d. 
 
 Sidgwlck (Mrs. Alfred). THE KINS- 
 MAN. Illustrated. Third Edition \ Cr. 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE LANTERN-BEARERS. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ANTHEA’S GUEST. Fifth Edition. Cr. 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 ♦LAMORNA. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Somerville (E. (E.) and Ross (Martin). 
 
 DAN RUSSEL THE FOX. Illustrated. 
 Fourth Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Thurston (E. Temple). MIRAGE. Fourth 
 
 Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 Watson (H. B. Marriott). THE HIGH 
 
 TOBY. Third Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 THE PRIVATEERS. Illustrated. Second 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 ALISE OF ASTRA. Third Edition. Cr. 
 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE BIG FISH. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 
 6s. 
 
 Weblin'g (Peggy). THE STORY OF 
 VIRGINIA PERFECT. Third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 Vo. 6s. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF MIRTH. Fifth Edition 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6j. 
 
 FELIX CHRISTIE. Second Edition. Cr. 
 
 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Weyman (Stanley). UNDER THE RED 
 ROBE. Illustrated. Twenty-third Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Whitby (Beatrice). ROSAMUND. Second 
 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
Fiction 
 
 Williamson (C. N. and A. M.)- THE 
 LIGHTNING CONDUCTOR: The 
 Strange Adventures of a Motor Car. Illus- 
 trated. Seventeenth Edition . Cr. 8z >o. 
 6s. Also Cr. 8 vo. is. net. 
 
 THE PRINCESS PASSES : A Romance of 
 a Motor. Illustrated. Ninth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 LADY BETTY ACROSS THE WATER. 
 Eleventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 SCARLET RUNNER. Illustrated. Third 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 SET IN SILVER. Illustrated. Fourth 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s, 
 
 27 
 
 LORD LOVELAND DISCOVERS 
 AMERICA. Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 THE GOLDEN SILENCE. Sixth Edition. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 THE GUESTS OF HERCULES. Third 
 
 Edition. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 •THE HEATHER MOON. Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Wyllarde (Dolf). THE PATHWAY OF 
 THE PIONEER (Nous Autres). Sixth 
 Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE UNOFFICIAL HONEYMOON. 
 
 Seventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. 
 
 THE CAREER OF BEAUTY DARLING. 
 Cr. 8 vo. 6s. 
 
 Methuen’s Two-Shilling Novels. 
 
 Crown $vo. 2 s. net* 
 
 ♦Botor Chaperon, The. C. N. and A. M. 
 Williamson. 
 
 ♦Call of the Blood, The. Robert Hichens. 
 Car of Destiny and its Errand in 
 Spain, The. C. N. and A. M. Williamson. 
 Clementina. A. E. W. Mason. 
 
 Colonel Enderby’s Wife. Lucas Malet. 
 Felix. Robert Hichens. 
 
 Gate of the Desert, The. John Oxenham. 
 My Friend the Chauffeur. C. N. and 
 A. M. Williamson. 
 
 i Books for Boys and Girls. 
 
 Illustrated. Crown Svo. 3 s. 
 
 Only a Guard-Room Dog. Edith E. 
 Cuthell. 
 
 Red Grange, The. Mrs. Molesworth. 
 
 Syd Belton : The Boy who would not 
 
 go to Sea. G. Manville Fenn. 
 
 There was once a Prince. Mrs. M. E. 
 Mann. 
 
 Cross and Dagger. The Crusade of the 
 Children, 1212 . W. Scott Durrant. 
 
 Getting Well of Dorothy, The. Mrs. 
 W. K. Clifford. 
 
 Girl of the People, A. L. T. Meade. 
 Hepsy Gipsy. L. T. Meade. 2 s. 6d. 
 Honourable Miss, The. L. T. Meade. 
 Master Rockafellar’s Voyage. W. Clark 
 Russell. 
 
 Princess Virginia, The. C. N. and A. M. 
 Williamson. 
 
 Seats of the Mighty, The. Sir Gilbert 
 Parker. 
 
 Servant of the Public, A. Anthony Hope. 
 ♦Set in Silver. C. N. and A. M. Williamson. 
 Severins, The. Mrs. Alfred Sidgwick. 
 
 Sir Richard Calmady. Lucas Malet. ^ 
 ♦Vivien. W. B. Maxwell. 
 
28 
 
 Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 Methuen’s Shilling Novels. 
 
 •Anna of the Five Towns. Arnold Bennett. 
 Barbary Sheep. Robert Hichens. 
 
 Charm, The. Alice Perrin. 
 
 ♦Demon, The. C. N. and A. M. Williamson. 
 Guarded Flame, The. W. B. Maxwell. 
 Jane. Marie Corelli. 
 
 Lady Betty Across the Water. C. N. 
 
 & A. M. Williamson. 
 
 •Long Road, The. John Oxenham. 
 Mighty Atom, The. Marie Corelli. 
 Mirage. E. Temple Thurston. 
 
 Missing Delora, The. E Phillips Oppen- 
 heim. 
 
 Round the Red Lamp. Sir A. Conan Doyle. 
 •Secret Woman, The. Eden Phillpotts. 
 •Severins, The. Mrs. Alfred Sidgwick. 
 Spanish Gold. G. A. Birmingham. 
 
 Tales ok Mean Streets. Arthur Morrison. 
 The Halo. The Baroness von Hutten. 
 •Tyrant, The. Mrs. Henry de la Pasture. 
 Under the Red Robe. Stanley J. Wcyman. 
 Virginia Perfect. Peggy Webling. 
 Woman with the Fan, The. Robert 
 Hi:hens. 
 
 The Novels of Alexandre Dumas. 
 
 Medium Zvo. Price 6d. Double Volumes , is. 
 
 Act6. 
 
 Adventures of Captain Pamphile, The. 
 
 A MAURY. 
 
 Bird of Fate, The. 
 
 Black Tulip, The. 
 
 Black : the Story of a Dog. 
 
 Castle of Eppstein, The. 
 
 Catherine Blum. 
 
 CecilE. 
 
 Chatelet, The. 
 
 Chevalier D'Harmental, The. (Double 
 volume.) 
 
 Chicot the Jester. 
 
 Chicot Redivivus. 
 
 Comte de Montgommery, The. 
 Conscience. 
 
 Convict's Son, The. 
 
 Corsican Brothers, The; and Otho the 
 Archer. 
 
 Crop-Eared Jacquot. 
 
 Dom Gorenflot. 
 
 Due d'Anjou, The. 
 
 Fatal Combat, The. 
 
 Fencing Master, The. 
 
 Fernande. 
 
 Gabriel Lambert. 
 
 Georges. 
 
 Great Massacre, The. 
 
 Henri de Navarre. 
 
 H£l£nb de Chaverny. 
 
 Horoscope, The. 
 
 Leone-Leona. 
 
 Louise de la Valli^re. (Double volume.) 
 Man in the Iron Mask, The. (Double 
 volume.) 
 
 MaItre Adam. 
 
 Mouth of Hell, The. 
 
 Nanon. (Double volume.) 
 
 Olympia. 
 
 Pauline; Rascal Bruno; and Bontekoe. 
 PliRE la Ruine. 
 
 Porte Saint-Antoine, The. 
 
 Prince of Thieves, The. 
 
 Reminiscences of Antony, The. 
 
 St. Quentin. 
 
 Robin Hood. 
 
 Samuel Gelb. 
 
 Snowball and the Sultanetta, The. 
 Sylvandire. 
 
 Taking of Calais, The. 
 
 Tales of the Supernatural. 
 
 Tales of Strange Adventure. 
 
 Tales of Terror. 
 
 Three Musketeers, The. (Double volume.) 
 Tourney of the Rue St. Antoine. 
 Tragedy of Nantes, The. 
 
 Twenty Years After. (Double volume.) 
 Wild-Duck Shooter, The. 
 
 Wolf-Leader, The. 
 
Fiction 
 
 29 
 
 Methuen’s Sixpenny Books. 
 
 Medium 8vo. 
 
 Albanesl (E. Maria). LOVE AND 
 LOUISA. 
 
 I KNOW A MAIDEN. 
 
 THE BLUNDER OF AN INNOCENT. 
 PETER A PARASITE. 
 
 •THE INVINCIBLE AMELIA. 
 
 Anstey (F.). A BAYARD OF BENGAL. 
 Austen (J.). PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 Bagot (Richard). A ROMAN MYSTERY. 
 CASTING OF NETS. 
 
 DONNA DIANA. 
 
 Balfour (Andrew). BY STROKE OF 
 SWORD. 
 
 Barlng-Gould (S.). FURZE BLOOM. 
 CHEAP JACK ZITA. 
 
 KITTY ALONE. 
 
 URITH. 
 
 THE BROOM SQUIRE. 
 
 IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. 
 
 NOEMI. 
 
 A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES. Illustrated. 
 LITTLE TU’PENNY, 
 
 WINEFRED. 
 
 THE FROBISHERS. 
 
 THE QUEEN OF LOVE. 
 
 ARMINELL. 
 
 BLADYS OF THE STEWPONEY. 
 CHRIS OF ALL SORTS. 
 
 Barr (Robert). JENNIE BAXTER. 
 
 IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. 
 
 THE COUNTESS TEKLA. 
 
 THE MUTABLE MANY. 
 
 Benson (E. F.). DODO. 
 
 THE VINTAGE. 
 
 Bronte (Charlotte). SHIRLEY. 
 
 Brownell (C. L.). THE HEART OF 
 JAFAN. 
 
 Burton (J. Bloundelle). ACROSS THE 
 SALT SEAS. 
 
 Caffyn (Mrs.). ANNE MAULEVERER. 
 
 Capes (Bernard). THE GREAT SKENE 
 MYSTERY. 
 
 Clifford (Mrs. W. K.). A FLASH OF 
 SUMMER. 
 
 MRS. KEITH’S CRIME. 
 
 Corbett (Julian). A BUSINESS IN 
 GREAT WATERS. 
 
 Croker (Mrs. B. M.). ANGEL. 
 
 A STATE SECRET. 
 
 PEGGY OF THE BARTONS. 
 
 JOHANNA. 
 
 Dante (Alighieri). THE DIVINE 
 
 COMEDY (Cary). 
 
 Doyle (Sir A. Conan). ROUND THE 
 RED LAMP. 
 
 Duncan (Sara Jeannette). THOSE 
 DELIGHTFUL AMERICANS. 
 
 Eliot (George). THE MILL ON THE 
 FLOSS. 
 
 Findlater (Jane H.). THE GREEN 
 GRAVES OF BALGOWRIE. 
 
 Gallon (Tom). RICKERBY’S FOLLY. 
 
 Gaskell (Mrs.). CRANFORD. 
 
 MARY BARTON. 
 
 NORTH AND SOUTH. 
 
 Gerard (Dorothea). HOLY MATRI- 
 MONY. 
 
 THE CONQUEST OF LONDON. 
 
 MADE OF MONEY. 
 
 Gissing (G.). THE TOWN TRAVELLER. 
 
 THE CROWN OF LIFE. 
 
 Glanville (Ernest). THE INCA’S 
 TREASURE. 
 
 THE KLOOF BRIDE. 
 
 Gleig (Charles). BUNTER’S CRUISE. 
 
 Grimm (The Brothers). GRIMM'S 
 FAIRY TALES. 
 
 Hope (Anthony). A MAN OF MARK. 
 
 A CHANGE OF AIR. 
 
 THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT 
 ANTONIO. 
 
 PHROSO. 
 
 THE DOLLY DIALOGUES. 
 
 Hornung (E. W.). DEAD MEN TELL 
 NO TALES. 
 
 Hyne (C. J. C.). PRINCE RUPERT THE 
 BUCCANEER. 
 
 Ingraham (J. H.). THE THRONE OF 
 DAVID. 
 
Methuen and Company Limited 
 
 30 
 
 Le Queux (W.). THE HUNCHBACK 
 OF WESTMINSTER. 
 
 THE CROOKED WAY. 
 
 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 
 
 Levett- Yeats (S. K.). THE TRAITOR’S 
 WAY. 
 
 ORRA1N. 
 
 Linton (E. Lynn). THE TRUE HIS- 
 TORY OF JOSHUA DAVIDSON. 
 
 Lyall (Edna). DERRICK VAUGHAN. 
 
 Malet (Lucas). THE CARISSIMA. 
 
 A COUNSEL OF PERFECTION. 
 
 Mann (Mrs. M. E.). MRS. PETER 
 HOWARD. 
 
 A LOST ESTATE. 
 
 THE CEDAR STAR. 
 
 THE PATTEN EXPERIMENT. 
 
 A WINTER’S TALE. 
 
 Marchmont (A. W.). MISER HOAD- 
 LEY'S SECRET. 
 
 A MOMENT’S ERROR. 
 
 Marryat (Captain). PETER SIMPLE. 
 JACOB FAITHFUL. 
 
 March (Richard). A METAMORPHOSIS. 
 THE TWICKENHAM PEERAGE. 
 
 THE GODDESS. 
 
 THE JOSS. 
 
 Mason (A. E. W.). CLEMENTINA. 
 
 Mathers (Helen). HONEY. 
 
 GRIFF OF GRIFFITHSCOURT. 
 
 SAM’S SWEETHEART. 
 
 THE FERRYMAN. 
 
 Meade (Mrs. L. T.). DRIFT. 
 
 Miller (Esther). LIVING LIES. 
 
 Mitford (Bertram). THE SIGN OF THE 
 SPIDER. 
 
 Montrdsor (F. F.). THE ALIEN. 
 
 Morrison (Arthur). THE HOLE IN 
 THE WALL. 
 
 Nesbit (E.). THE RED HOUSE. 
 
 Norris (W. E.). HIS GRACE. 
 
 GILES INGILBY. 
 
 THE CREDIT OF THE COUNTY. 
 LORD LEONARD THE LUCKLESS. 
 MATTHEW AUSTEN. 
 
 CLARISSA FURIOSA. 
 
 Oliphant (Mrs.). THE LADY’S WALK. 
 SIR ROBERT’S FORTUNE. 
 
 THE PRODIGALS. 
 
 THE TWO MARYS. 
 
 Oppenheim (E. P.). MASTER OF MEN. 
 
 Parker (Sir Gilbert). THE POMP OF 
 THE LAVILETTES. 
 
 WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC. 
 THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. 
 
 Pemberton (Max). THE FOOTSTEPS 
 OF A THRONE. 
 
 I CROWN THEE KING. 
 
 Phillpotts (Eden), THE HUMAN BOY. 
 CHILDREN OF THE MIST. 
 
 THE POACHER’S WIFE. 
 
 THE RIVER. 
 
 ‘ Q * (A. T. Quiller Couch). THE 
 
 WHITE WOLF. 
 
 Ridge (W.Pett). A SON OF THE STATE. 
 LOST PROPERTY. 
 
 GEORGE and THE GENERAL. 
 
 A BREAKER OF LAWS. 
 
 ERB. 
 
 Russell (W. Clark). ABANDONED. 
 
 A MARRIAGE AT SEA. 
 
 MY DANISH SWEETHEART. 
 
 HIS ISLAND PRINCESS. 
 
 Sergeant (Adeline). THE MASTER OF 
 BEECHWOOD. 
 
 BALBARA’S MONEY. 
 
 THE YELLOW DIAMOND. 
 
 THE LOVE THAT OVERCAME. 
 
 Sidgwick (Mrs. Alfred). THE KINS- 
 
 MAN. 
 
 Surtees (R. S.). HANDLEY CROSS. 
 MR. SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. 
 
 ASK MAMMA. 
 
 Walford (Mrs. L. B.). MR. SMITH. 
 
 COUSINS. 
 
 THE BABY’S GRANDMOTHER. 
 TROUBLESOME DAUGHTERS. 
 Wallace (General Lew). BEN-HUR. 
 THE FAIR GOD. 
 
 Watson (H.B. Marriott). THE ADVEN- 
 
 TURERS. 
 
 CAPTAIN FORTUNE. 
 
 Weekes (A. B.), PRISONERS OF WAR. 
 Wells (H. G.). THE SEA LADY. 
 
 Whitby (Beatrice). THE RESULT OF 
 AN ACCIDENT. 
 
 White (Percy). A PASSIONATE ML- 
 GRIM. 
 
 Williamson (Mrs. C. N.). PAPA. 
 
PRINTED BY 
 
 WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 LONDON AND BECCLES. 
 

 t 
 
. 
 
BOSTON COLLEGE 
 
 9031 027 90719 5