longer here to expound him: how hopeless the outlook of the fatherland now that he no longer encourages us. The soldiers may win battles perhaps, but for what? Whether we conquer or are beaten we shall be ruled without principle. Think not that the Church will be better treated now that he is gone. It was he who sometimes protected the poorer clergy. Do you fancy there is any religion in Collet d'Herbois and Billaud Varennes? They say that they will give the priests no pay at all for the future. They are atheists: they hated the feast of the Supreme Being: they are guilty of the worst executions, and not for the country's sake but to serve their private ends.

I cannot write more, Jeannette. Do you know that maxim of Nicolas

WHEN one has taken up diplomacy as a profession one should surely strive to acquire at all events so much of diplomatic skill as is implied in an elementary acquaintance with the foibles of humanity; but a good many young men, it may be surmised, enter that branch of the public service rather by reason of its social advantages than because they feel in themselves any special aptitude for its duties; and if Gerald Severne should ever become an ambassador, his name is not very likely to be added to the short list of Englishmen who have achieved renown in that capacity. He ought not to have been in the least astonished at his mother's good nature in planning a match between Mr. Ellacombe and Chris Compton, and he ought to have known that the very best way of defeating such a design was to lend it every ostensible support; for really Ellacombe was an impossible sort of person when he was not upon his good behaviour, and each fresh opportunity that was given him of associating with his neighbours must diminish the probability of his being able to sustain an unnatural character.

But Gerald was not wise enough or philosophical enough to reason in this way; so he said to his mother: "You've done it this time and no mistake! Do you mean to say you really didn't know that everybody about here gave up asking Ellacombe to dinner long ago? He is just as certain to get screwed and kick up a row as you are to say your prayers to-night. More certain, if anything."

"You are a very rude boy," returned Lady Barnstaple, laughing good-humouredly: "I wish I could feel sure that you neglected your de

votions as little as I do mine. As for Mr. Ellacombe, you mustn't allow him to get screwed, as you call it. You can easily prevent him from taking more than is good for him."

"I don't quite see how. If he wants to fill his glass, he'll fill it, I suppose; and then the chances are that he'll insult one of your guests. It would have been so simple to leave the man alone!"

A

But Lady Barnstaple was not alarmed. She did not think that Mr. Ellacombe would disgrace himself at her table, whatever his ordinary habits might be she was pretty sure that he was smitten with Chris, and she saw no reason why Chris should not be smitten with him. He was young, rich, athletic, and the general effect of him was by no means so bad. little florid, perhaps; but one must not expect to find Apollo Belvederes in every parish. And so when, on the appointed evening, Mr. Ellacombe entered her drawing-room, he produced a favourable impression upon one who was ready to be favourably impressed. Quite tidy," she muttered under her breath, after taking a rapid survey of him; and in truth there was not much fault to be found with his person or

costume.

There was not much fault to be found with his manners either. Gerald Severne was pleased to speak of him as if he had been a half-civilised being, and Chris had more charitably called him a rough diamond; but in reality he had had some experience of the ways of modern society, and only shunned that of his equals in the county because, in his opinion, they were a dull, censorious and quarrelsome lot. He was not awkward, nor was he in any way abashed by the presence of the smart people whom

Lady Barnstaple was entertaining. His hostess introduced him to some of them, and he seemed to have no difficulty in finding subjects to talk to them about. If he was not a particularly attentive listener, that was because of reasons which everybody at once understood and pardoned. The red-bearded man, they thought, was evidently going to marry Lady Barnstaple's pretty little friend: no wonder he could not take his eyes off her, and sometimes answered at random when addressed.

From the moment that dinner was announced this small shortcoming on his part ceased to be noticeable; for it need hardly be said that he was told to give his arm to Miss Compton. Gerald, whom the cruel laws of precedence forced to escort an ancient dowager, watched Chris and her neighbour from the far end of the table and was painfully surprised by the sobriety of the one and the animation of the other. Of course he did not want Ellacombe to get drunk and make a scene; but he certainly did not want Chris to find the fellow entertaining, and he was at a loss to conceive what they could be talking about that should cause her to find him so. If he had overheard their conversation he would have been in some measure reassured, for it was not of a sentimental nature.

"As you are so fond of horses and dogs," Chris was saying, "I wonder you don't try to make friends of them. It seems to me that you treat them like slaves."

"But that is just what they are," returned Ellacombe. "A horse doesn't allow you to put a bit in his mouth and get upon his back because he loves you he submits because he is afraid of you, and fancies you are stronger than you really are."

:

"I should be sorry to think that," said Chris.

"You may depend upon it that it is the truth, Miss Compton; and I assure you that neither horses nor dogs dislike a master who can make them obey him."

No. 340.-VOL. LVII.

"And can you make all horses obey you?"

"Nine out of ten, I should say. There are a few exceptional brutes whom one has to sell."

"If I were a horse," remarked Chris, "you would have to sell me."

"Should I? Then I am glad you are not a horse; for I am sure I'should prefer to keep you."

"That sounds flattering; but I shouldn't care to be your slave, or anybody's slave."

"You are in no danger, Miss Compton," returned Ellacombe, with a short sigh. "Men will be your slaves: you won't be theirs."

Chris put that aspect of the question by, and went on to insist upon her favourite theory that the lower animals ask nothing better than to serve us; and that when they fail to serve us properly it is simply because we have not the skill or the patience to make them understand what we want.

Ellacombe listened to her goodhumouredly. She was talking nonsense, he thought; but her nonsense was prettily expressed, and such ideas, however intrinsically absurd, were becoming in a woman. The fact is that he had always classed women themselves among the lower animals, and had treated them precisely in the same way as he treated his horses and his dogs. In the face of what one sees every day, one cannot venture to deny that such a mode of treatment is frequently successful; but there are exceptional women, just as there are exceptional brutes, and Ellacombe had wit enough to perceive that the girl whom he had almost made up his mind to marry was not one whom it would be wise to bully.

Nor indeed, so long as he retained his wits, had he any inclination at all to be wanting in respect to her. The unfortunate thing for him was that he could not retain his wits under the influence of champagne. Gerald had been guilty of no exaggeration in asserting that the county in general had given up asking Mr. Ellacombe to

X

dinner. Wine affects some men in one way and some in another, and to every man's character there is, of course, a good and a bad side. Poor Ellacombe's neighbours no longer invited him to dine with them because the bad side of his character was very bad indeed, and because it displayed itself with offensive prominence when he was half-tipsy. Moreover it did

not take a great many glasses of champagne to make him half-tipsy. Thus Chris became conscious of a gradual change in his manner, the cause of which she did not at all understand, but which was eminently distasteful to her.

"Come out for a ride with me some day, won't you?" said he, with something unpleasantly like a wink. "I'll take you for a jolly good gallop across the moor, and show you more of the country than you'd ever see with that beggar Severne. His notion of riding is peacocking along the high road, I expect."

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"Mr. Severne rides very well: we don't generally keep to the road," answered Chris. Presently she added, 'I dare say he would have no objection to your joining us some day, if you choose; but Lady Barnstaple would not allow me to ride alone with youeven if I wished it."

The misguided Ellacombe winked again, and this time his wink was unmistakable. "Don't you believe it," said he: "old Lady Barnstaple is pretty wide awake, and she'll let you ride with me just as often as you like. She's a precious deal more likely to forbid you to ride with her son, I can tell you! The old lady wasn't born yesterday-nor was I, for the matter of that. I know very well why I was asked to dine here to-night."

There was a short pause, during which Chris contemplated her neighbour with undisguised astonishment and with a vague suspicion that he had suddenly gone out of his mind.

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Why were you asked to dine here, Mr. Ellacombe?" she asked at length. He laughed rather foolishly and

made no reply. He had not drunk so much wine but that he was conscious of having said something which would have been better left unsaid; but he had drunk enough not to care. He drank a little more and was proportionately exhilarated. "What's the odds!" he exclaimed. "Let's enjoy ourselves and allow the old women to scheme and plot till they're black in the face, if it amuses 'em. Only, if they think I don't see through their little dodges as well as anybody, they make a mistake, that's all."

After that, Chris thought she would have to give Mr. Ellacombe up. She did not know that he was in a state of semi-intoxication; but she could not misunderstand his meaning and she regretted having ever imagined that such a boor could be tamed by civility. "I suppose," she reflected, "that he judges of his animals by his own feelings. He is wrong about them; but he is quite right about himself, and if I were a man I shouldn't at all mind giving him a sound horsewhipping." So she turned her shoulder towards him and talked to the elderly gentleman on her right hand, who was very willing to be so distinguished.

All this Gerald saw, and drew his own deductions. If disagreeable things happen, it is some consolation to have foretold them, and if, in spite of one's predictions, they don't happen, one is glad to have been wrong; so that it is obviously every one's wisest course to be the prophet of evil. Gerald was perhaps not quite as sorry as he ought to have been that his mother's guest had indulged too freely in champagne; but he was afraid that something rude had been said to Miss Compton, and that made him not only very sorry but very angry. Consequently, when the ladies left the dining-room he was as ready to fall foul of Ellacombe as any one in the position of a host can be.

Ellacombe, for his part, was ready and willing for the fray. He, unfortunately, was both quarrelsome and boastful in his cups, and after

having swallowed three glasses of port in quick succession, he gave a free rein to each of these evil propensities. Somebody having made an innocent remark about the Devon and Somerset staghounds, he must needs begin to narrate his experiences with that wellknown pack, and give a vivid description of a perfectly impossible leap which he stated that he had taken while following them during the previous season. His anecdote was received with chilling silence; but he did not seem to be much chilled. He took a deliberate survey of his

audience and found that each member of it was staring steadily at the tablecloth, with the exception of Gerald, who looked impatient and annoyed.

"It strikes me, Severne," said he, speaking with a slight thickness of utterance, yet quite distinctly, "that you don't believe that story.'

"I don't know anything about it," answered Gerald shortly. "I wasn't there; and I have never, that I can remember, seen the place you mention."

"Then, my good friend, I don't see why you should doubt my word."

"No one is doubting your word. Would you mind passing the wine, Ellacombe?"

Ellacombe, after filling his glass, complied, remarking solemnly: "I can stand a man who looks supercilious at me, because I know the chances are that he's only an ass, who fancies himself without any reason; but hang me if I can stand a man who calls me a liar! That's the sort of thing," he explained, turning to his neighbour, "which nobody can be expected to stand."

Gerald took no notice of this observation. Some of his guests were sniggering behind their hands: all of them of course understood that Mr. Ellacombe was no longer responsible for his words. Nevertheless, it was not pleasant to know that this tipsy idiot would shortly be let loose upon the ladies in the drawing-room, and that there was one lady in particular beside

whom he was pretty certain to seat himself. "All I can do," thought Gerald, "is to keep an eye upon him, and remove him if he becomes intolerable."

His

Ellacombe had not the slightest idea that he was likely to be found intolerable by anybody. He had for a moment thought of trying to provoke an altercation with his host; but he forgot all about that when the other men rose from the table and moved towards the adjoining room. As Gerald had anticipated, he made straight for the corner where Chris was seated, talking to Lady Grace and holding Peter upon her knees. bemused intelligence was conscious of little more than that Miss Compton was the prettiest and nicest girl he had ever seen, that old Lady Barnstaple wanted him to marry her, that he was quite inclined to oblige Lady Barnstaple, and that the best way of making love to a woman is to do so boldly. That, according to Mr. Ellacombe's experience, was what they all liked. Some of them might pretend that they didn't; but their pretences could hardly impose upon an old hand.

Lady Grace got up somewhat hastily and fled when this big, red-bearded man, whose cheeks were flushed and whose gait was not quite steady, drew near; and he dropped down at once into the chair which she had vacated. He snapped his finger and thumb at Peter, who acknowledged the salutation by bristling up and uttering a short, low growl. Then he bent forward and murmured insinuatingly to Chris, "I say, don't be cross."

Thereupon Chris also bristled up, after her fashion. "I don't know what you mean, Mr. Ellacombe," she said.

"Oh, yes, you do," he returned, with a loud laugh. "You were cross, or you thought you ought to make believe to be cross, because I asked you to ride with me. Lord bless your soul ! I understand all that; and what's the good of humbugging? I like you