Nothing could be more effective than that pale
face, so refined, so delicate in tone. His voice,
too, was soft and gentle. It was an opening
for a graceful retirement, and he knew how to
make profit of it. There was a touch of pathos
in the way he returned thanks for their kindness
to him. He should not easily forget. He was not
strong enough now to say all he was inclined
to say, but he hoped they would understand him.
At the same time, would they forgive if he were
to say they were a little bit responsible themselves
for the infliction of his presence, for if they
recollected, Miss Manuel had all but challenged
him to ride the race. Had she not, now?

A little flush came upon the second girl's face,
and her eyes stole over to the sister's with a glance
of reproach. The idea had, indeed, occurred
before now to Miss Manuel with some remorse.

"I did not do so badly after all, you see," he
said, smiling; " and only for that stupid animal
which our friend rode, should have done better."

Violet here was compressing her lips and
beating her foot on the floor.

"By the way," he continued, " I had just time
at the moment to see how he turned and lurched
over on me. I saw you trying to keep him straight,
Hanbury, but the strongest arms in England
couldn't have kept that brute from having his
way. Forgive me," he added, gaily, " but you
know I never was frantic about him."

Hanbury looked round triumphant, and there
was more exuberant gratitude flooding his cheeks,
as from a burst sluice, than even triumph. The
second girl turned away her eyes, then walked
over to the window to look at the sea.

Major Carter now came bustling in, crisp and
crackling. It was time to go. Would Captain
Fermor take his arm? There. He had been up
at Brown's- terrace. He had been putting
the last few final touches to the new and airy
lodgings.

Fermor, propped up on the friendly Carter's
arm, faded gracefully from the room. Wistful
eyes followed him. Hanbury, brimming over,
bounded down before him and about him with
the exuberance of a mastiff. At the carriage
door he gave Fermor a grip of gratitude.

"I shall never forget it, never!" he said. "It
was noble— perfectly noble!"

And when the carriage drove away, he came
bounding up again, with his tail wagging; for
he was now fairly "rehabilitated;" perfectly
cleared and made straight in his character.

Alas, how little he knew. It was only the
"rehabilitation" of Fermor. For that bit of
chivalry and generous testimony to one who was
scarcely a friend, had painted in a sort of
exquisite nimbus round his head as he retired. It
was about as unfortunate a calling of testimony
into court as could be conceived.

CHAPTER XII. A CONVERSATION.

THE little watering-place was gliding into its
season. Fashionable brooklets came trickling
in, houses were in demand, and house-rents high.
The natives looked on proudly, and said to each
other that it was going to be "gay."

Among the same class there was an instinct
that Major Carter, so newly arrived, was to be
accepted as a being from the fashionable immortals,
and took his place in a proper niche without
effort.

Without effort, too, he had come to know
nearly all men and women. They were delighted
with his talk, inlaid with fine glittering names,
like a mosaic with bits of lapis lazuli. He
stood by, a conversational pointsman, and
skilfully turned his train of talk into aristocratic
sidings.

What passed in Fermor's mind as he came
slowly up the stairs into his new rooms at
Brown's-terrace, was an impatient "This fellow
will want to fasten an acquaintance on me!" and
he thought, with the peevishness of sickness,
what a penalty this was to pay for the few little
offices he had received. He was laying out, with
disgust, how, after a mess dinner, he should
insist on a receipt in full, and coldly "drop the
fellow," when Carter, having got him to the
sofa, said, in his gay way:

"Now, good-by! You shan't see me again
for weeks, until you are well. Positively no.
And even then— I don't know, I am not a
visiting man. I like to know a few people, not
a wholft town, you know. By the way, how do
you find this place?"

Fermor raised his eyebrows, then said
elliptically, " Well, scarcely!"

"Ah! so I should think. You want the
'Junior,' and 'Brooks's,' and Lady Glastonbury's
box. Of course this sort does well enough for
the common set, for your friends up at the fort,
and that sort of thing. I tell you, you must get
away from us as quickly as you can."

This was like a censer swung before him, and
he accepted the fumes very complacently. "Don't
go yet," he said, graciously. " Sit down— for a
short time."

"Only for a moment, then," said Major Carter.
"Though I recollect that Lady Gunning always
said that those visits where one was in a hurry
to go, turned out the longest visits after all."

"You knew the Gunnings?" said Fermor, with
a little eagerness.

"O yes; used to meet her at Aix-la-Chapelle."
And on that text being given out, the two
together broke into a sort of hymn of reminiscence,
recalling in alternate versicles many fashionable
names. This sort of communion service is in itself
a great link of sympathy. Fermor, for so long in
convalescent jail, was now let into the glare of
daylight, and could breathe a little fashionable fresh
air. The visitor was very amusing; knew of, if he
did not himself know, innumerable "men;" men
of peace and men of war, and men of clubs,
concerning whom he had newer and more recent
news than Fermor could have; and though
conscious of being made a little inferior by having
to receive information, his zest for the details
made him overlook the form of the channel of