WRECKED IN PORT.
A SERIAL STORY BY THE AUTHOR OF " BLACK SHEEP."
BOOK II.
CHAPTER I.
LIFE AT WESTHOPE.

"TEA, my lady!"

"Very well. Tell Lady Caroline——oh,
here you are! I was just sending to tell
you that tea was ready. I saw you come
in from your ride just before the curtains
were drawn."

"Did you? Then you must have seen
a pretty draggletailed spectacle. I've
caked my habit with mud and torn it into
shreds, and generally distinguished
myself."

"Did Mr. Biscoe blush?"

"Not a bit of it. Mr. Biscoe's a good
specimen of a hard-riding parson, and
seemed to like me the better the muddier
and more torn I became. By the way, his
wife is coming to dinner, isn't she? so I
must drop my flirtation with the rector,
and be on my best behaviour."

"Caroline, you are too absurd; the idea
of flirting with a man like that!"

"Well, then, why don't you provide
some one better for me? I declare,
Margaret, you are ignorant of the simplest
duties of hospitality! I can't flirt with
West, because he's my brother-in-law, for
one reason, and because you mightn't like
it perhaps, and because I mightn't care
about it myself much. And there's no one
else in the house who——Oh, by the way,
I'll speak about that just now——who else
is coming to dinner?"

"Some people from the barracks——
Colonel Tapp and Mr. Frampton, the man
who hunted through all those papers the
other day to find the paragraph you asked
him about, don't you know; a Mr. Boyd,
a good-looking fair-haired boy, with an
eyeglass, one of the Ross-shire Boyds, who
is reading somewhere in the neighbourhood
with a tutor; the Biscoes, the Porters——
people who live at those iron gates with
the griffins which I showed you; and——I.
don't know——two or three others."

"Oh, heavens, what a cheerful prospect!
I hate the army, and I detest good-looking
boys with eyeglasses; and I've been all day
with Mr. Biscoe, and I don't know the
griffin people, nor the two or three others.
Look here, Margaret, why don't you ask
Mr. Joyce to dinner?"

"Mr. Joyce? I don't know——Good
heavens, Caroline, you don't mean Lord
Hetherington's secretary?"

"I do indeed, Margaret——why shouldn't
I? He is quite nice and gentlemanly, and
has charming eyes."

"Caroline, I wonder at your talking
such nonsense. You ought to know me
sufficiently——"

"And you ought to know me sufficiently
to understand there's nothing on earth I
detest like being bored. I shall be bored
out of my life by any of the people you
have mentioned, while I'm sure I should
find some amusement in Mr. Joyce."

"You might probably find a great deal
of amusement in Norton, the steward, or
in William, my footman; but you would
scarcely wish me to ask them to dinner?"

"I think not——not in William, at all
events. There is a dull decorum about
Mr. Norton which one might find some
fun in bearing——"

"Caroline, be quiet; you are impayable!
Are you really serious in what you say
about Mr. Joyce?"

"Perfectly——why not? I had some talk
with him in the library the other day, and
found him most agreeable."