he shoots by, has all the air and excitement
of a real race—adding also the grotesque
attitudes, the sprawling, the looking back, the
exultations, and the comic remarks of the riders.
Lulu laughed with delight at the comic and
childish antics of the full-grown French men
and women, whose whole souls were absorbed
in their pastime.

Now came up the parti-coloured old women
in queer caps, and yellow and scarlet shawls,
and with what seemed real drums on their
backs, which, when opened mysteriously, as
drums never were, drew crowds of children
eager for the delicious banquet of cakes seen
stored within. Lulu was invited a thousand
times over, and with many a significant speech,
to purchase these dainties. Surely her handsome
gentleman—her splendid gentleman—he
would buy for his lovely sweetheart—a pair
made for each other, and would live together
happily, and see the loveliest and most blooming
family in the world grow up about them! These
rustic compliments, delivered in a shrill tone,
and heard by all around, made Lucy blush, and
Vivian smile. Mr. Dacres would have burst
into one of his loud laughs of enjoyment had
he been there, but he had "slipped off into a
cool place." The pair, indeed, did not miss
him. A party of two, as Mr. Dacres himself
would have said, is "much more handy to
work," is more compact and rounded off; and
Lucy and her lover went about from this
eccentricity to that. Here was the woman in the
cart selling drugs and cures, and speaking with
a fluency that amazed Lulu. Here were little
shops where the most flimsy but elegant toys
and trifles were sold: gaudy and gay and cheerful
as butterflies, but with not nearly so long
a life, and which gradually fell to pieces, to
Lulu's amazement, as she carried them about.
There, were yet greater delights—a little
menagerie, with one bear, as the pièce de
résistance, a theatre, and an exhibition of highly
trained dogs and monkeys, which Vivian had
seen somewhere and recognised, and pronounced
would be well worth a visit.

It was quite a happy holiday. Then they went
away and walked in the green lanes. Many
remarked the handsome gentleman and pretty
girl on his arm, and gentle women's eyes followed
them and marked his fond look as his face was
turned to hers, and hers looking up so trustfully
at his, and who talked to each other with interest.
But presently two mariners, who had walked over
from the port, and who had witnessed the scene
of the rescue, told a rustic or two, and Lucy soon
discovered that her hero was being followed with
admiring looks of curiosity, and even heard
some of those rapturous soliloquies with which
French women express their admiration of
chivalry. She was proud indeed.

Towards the afternoon they returned to the
fair, wondering not a little what had become
of Mr. Dacres. Suddenly she thought she heard
his cheerful voice, and, turning round, actually
saw Harco, a "marlingspike" in one hand,
flying round, mounted on a very garish cob,
dappled vermilion and white all over, like a
clown's trousers. He was in great spirits and
exhilaration, his coat-tails flying out, and
was calling to the centre of motion to get
on faster, faster, and turning round every
moment to a stout grizzly Frenchman behind,
with a very open collar. Papa Harco nodded
to Lucy pleasantly as he flew by. "Ah! Lu, if
I had only my wig and gown here!"

After he had dismounted, he came to them,
with his arm in that of the stout Frenchman.
"That's what I call sport; next door to a kill
in the open with hounds. I say, Vivian, if some
of the circuit lads saw this! Egad, I am in such
feather, I'd play leapfrog with my Lord Chief
Justice himself. By the way, let me introduce
Colonel Pepin—a fine man, sir. Soldiers should
know each other."

The "ancient colonel in retreat" (Mr. Dacres
was often very droll on this description, which
was the colonel's own—"couldn't he say retired
at once?") bowed stiffly and with disdain to
Vivian; but smiled and simpered at Lucy with
infinite homage. This was, indeed, the
introduction he wanted. This officer was quite egg-
shaped as to figure, and his head and neck
together made up the shape of a Jersey pear.
His throat was in creases. Yet, like every
Frenchman of every time of life and condition,
he thought himself handsome, captivating, and
irresistible. Vivian he dismissed as a poor creature.

"We're all to dine together," said Papa
Harco. "The colonel, who is very strong in
that line, will look after the ordering. I'll back
him for as good a spread as ever adorned the
snowy damask. He guarantees the vintages too.

            Wine, wine, liquor divine,
            And served by the loveliest Hebe of mine!"

He often talked, later, of an amusing French
colonel, whom he "had picked up out riding."

But Vivian understood the retired French
colonel perfectly. He said, coldly and firmly,
that he was sorry, but they must go home, as
it would be dark soon.

"Oh yes, papa," said Lucy, eagerly, "you
know we must go. Though," she added,
wistfully, "it is very pleasant here."

"Is monsieur delicate, or afraid of catching
a cold?" said the colonel "in retreat," contemptuously.
"Why, the amusement is only
beginning."

"You are quite right," said Vivian, gravely,
"I am afraid. But, apart from that, Miss
Dacres wishes to return."

"Not she," said Mr. Dacres, getting more
into the spirit of the thing every moment.
"Why, we've to spread the board yet, and
wreathe the bowl. We must have something.
Nature, bounteous mother, sir, can't live upon
air. I am as empty as an Established church.
No! no!

                 Wine! wine! nectar divine.

Come, do stay, Lulu. I can't go back, you
know, when I have once begun. I've laid