indeed, for I know where the indebtedness
lies—more especially to you for all the
kindness you have shown me, and the
notice you have taken of me. And I—I
intended—-"

"Will you prove the truth of your
protestations by never saying another word on
the subject? The give-and-take principle
has been carried out in our society as much
as the most ardent democrat, say yourself,
Mr. Joyce, could have desired. I am sure
you are too good-natured to mourn over the
hours torn from your great work, and
frittered away in frivolous conversation, when
you know that you have helped Lady
Hetherington and myself to undergo an
appalling amount of country people; and
that while the dead Wests may grieve over
the delay in the publication of their valour
and virtue, the living Wests are grateful for
assistance rendered them in their conflict
with the bores. However, all that is nearly
at an end. When the family is at
Hetherington House, I have no doubt you will
be enabled to enjoy the strictest seclusion.
Meantime, there is only one festivity that I
know of, which is likely to cause us to ask
you to tear yourself away from your
chronicles."

"And that is—-?"

"A skating party. Consequently dependent
dent on the state of the weather. So that if
you are still hermit-ically inclined, you had
better pray for a thaw. If the frost holds
like this, we are anticipating a very pleasant
afternoon to-morrow, the people from
the barracks and some others are coming
over, the men report the ice in capital
order, and there's to be luncheon and that
kind of thing. But perhaps, after all, you
don't skate, Mr. Joyce?"

"Oh yes, indeed—and you?"

"Nothing in the world I'm so fond of,
or, if I may say so, that I do so well. We
wintered one year in Vienna, there was a
piece of water privately enclosed called the
Schwann Spiegel, where the Emperor—
never mind!"

The next day was very bright and very
pleasant. Whether Walter Joyce had prayed
for a thaw or not, it is certain that the
frost of the previous night had been very
mild as compared with its immediate
predecessors; the wind had shifted round to
the south-west, the sun had actual warmth,
and weatherwise people assumed to notice
a certain dun effect of the atmosphere, and
therefrom to presage snow. The notion of
the skating party about to take place had
been received with immense delight at the
barracks at Brocksopp, and at the various
houses to which invitations had been
forwarded. To exhibit themselves in becoming
costume a little removed from ordinary
everyday dress, was in itself a delight to
the younger members of society, while the
elders, independently of their gratification
in being brought personally into contact
with the Lord-Lieutenant of the county,
knew the capabilities of the Westhope cellar
and kitchen, and recognised the fact that
luncheon under such auspices meant
something more than sandwiches and cheap
sherry. The gathering was held on a large
sheet of water, which was a pond, but which,
being situate in the Westhope domain,
profited by the generally aristocratic nature
of its surroundings and was called a lake,
lying about half a mile from the house. A
large tent had been pitched on the bank,
and as of course it was impossible to have
any regular sit-down luncheon, refreshments
were perpetually going on, "snacks"
were indulged in between the performance of
wild evolutions given out to be quadrilles,
and gone through to the music of the
military band, which, with very blue cheeks
and very stiff fingers, was playing on the
bank, and the consumption of liquids, from
champagne in tumblers to curaçoa in wine
glasses, was tremendous.

The party from Westhope had driven
down in a break, in which a seat had been
offered to Walter Joyce by Lady Hetherington
herself, who had condescended to
visit the library for the express purpose.
It happened, however, that the secretary
was specially engaged on an important
letter, which it was necessary should be
despatched that day, so that he was
compelled to ask to be allowed to find his own
way to the lake. When he arrived, there
was already a large gathering, the bank
was lined with spectators, and there was a
tolerably large number of skaters. Lord
Hetherington, wrapped in an enormous fur
coat, with a hood hanging half-way down
his back, was standing looking on with a
somewhat melancholy expression. It had
just occurred to him. that skating was a
pleasant pastime, that to skate well was a
thing of which a man might reasonably be
proud; at the same time he realised the
fact that it was a thing impossible to be
done by proxy—he could not get any man
to skate for him and give him the credit of
it. Colonel Tapp, cleaner shaved and
waxier moustached than ever, stood by his
lordship. The colonel did not skate, not
that he could not; in his youth he had