Lady Connie. Mrs. Humphry Ward

next door, indeed, the Manson and Falloden parties appeared to be on the most intimate terms. Mrs. Manson, doing the honours of the college boat, flattering Lady Laura, gracious to the children, and glancing every now and then at her two girls and their handsome companion, was enjoying a crowded and successful moment.

      But she too was aware of the tall girl in white on the neighbouring deck, and she turned enquiringly to Falloden.

      "Do you know who she is?"

      "The Risboroughs' daughter--Lady Constance Bledlow." Mrs. Manson's eyebrows went up.

      "Indeed! Of course I knew her parents intimately! Where is she staying?"

      Falloden briefly explained.

      "But how very interesting! I must call upon her at once. But--I scarcely know the Hoopers!"

      Falloden hung over the barge rail, and smiled unseen.

      "Here they come!--here they come!" shouted the children, laying violent hands on Falloden that he might identify the boats for them.

      Up rolled a mighty roar from the lower reaches of the river as the boats came in sight, "Univ" leading; and the crowd of running and shouting men came rushing along the towing-path. "Univ" was gallantly "bumped" in front of its own barge, and Magdalen went head of the river. A delirious twenty minutes followed. Bump crashed on bump. The river in all its visible length flashed with the rising and falling oars--the white bodies of the rowers strained back and forth. But it was soon over, and only the cheering for the victorious crews remained; and the ices--served to the visitors!--of which Roger was not slow to remind his hostess.

      The barges emptied, and the crowd poured out again into the meadows. Just outside the Christ Church barge, Constance with Nora beside her, and escorted by Sorell and Lord Meyrick, lifted a pair of eyes to a tall fellow in immaculate flannels and a Harrow cap. She had been aware of his neighbourhood, and he of hers, long before it was possible to speak. Falloden introduced his mother. Then he resolutely took possession of Constance.

      "I hope you approve what I have been doing about the mare?"

      "I am of course most grateful. When am I to try her?"

      "I shall take her out to-morrow afternoon. Then I'll report."

      "It is extremely kind of you." The tone was strictly conventional.

      He said nothing; and after a minute she could not help looking up. She met an expression which showed a wounded gentleman beside her.

      "I hope you saw the races well?" he said coldly.

      "Excellently. And Mr. Sorell explained everything."

      "You knew him before?"

      "But of course!" she said, laughing. "I have known him for years."

      "You never mentioned him--at Cannes."

      "One does not always catalogue one's acquaintance, does one?"

      "He seems to be more than an acquaintance."

      "Oh, yes. He is a great friend. Mamma was so fond of him. He went with us to Sicily once. And Uncle Ewen likes him immensely."

      "He is of course a paragon," said Falloden.

      Constance glanced mockingly at her companion.

      "I don't see why he should be called anything so disagreeable. All we knew of him was--that he was delightful! So learned--and simple--and modest--the dearest person to travel with! When he left us at Palermo, the whole party seemed to go flat."

      "You pile it on!"

      "Not at all. You asked me if he were more than an acquaintance. I am giving you the facts."