He was no more than five foot nine in height, which was a trial that at times he felt deeply, but there are practical advantages for a young man who rides, in being able to do so at something considerably under eleven stone.  At boxing, rowing, and games, what he lost in weight and reach, he made up for in speed and elasticity and endurance.  Finally, it may be said that his figure had the gift of making old clothes like new, and new clothes look unaggressive, and when to these attributes is added a faculty for wearing hunting kit with accuracy and finish, it will be understood that Larry had early achieved standing in his college.

The Cluhir picnic, that had so justifiably perturbed Miss Frederica, debouched, like a mighty river, from its wagonettes and outside cars, upon the lawns of Coppinger’s Court, at about four of the clock, of a beautiful, balmy May afternoon, and to Larry fell the task of deciding upon its course of procedure.  Clad in very white flannels and a prismatic blazer, and looking, as his most tepid supporter would have to allow, a picture of cleanliness, he advanced upon Mrs. Mangan’s wagonette, and proffered an arm, fortunately of steel, to facilitate her descent.  The five years that had elapsed since Larry was her guest, had effected less change in her than in him.  Save that the bisonian fringe now held a grey hair or two in its dark depths, and the curves, that had suggested a Chesterfield sofa to her young friend, were now something more opulent than they had been, Mrs. Mangan’s progress along the corridor of eternity had made no perceptible mark on her.  Still, in assisting her descent from a high wagonette, an arm of steel was not out of place.

Larry was at the age that, believing itself critical to the point of extinction of the rejected, yet accepts with enthusiasm any female creature that can wear a smart hat with assurance, and wag a flattering tongue with address.  The Cluhir ladies were proficient in these arts.  Mr. Coppinger was congratulated on his weather; arranged by his skill, poured forth of his benevolence!  On his demesne, so green with young leaves, so gay with spring flowers!  Kind Mr. Coppinger to have created them in such profusion!  And what warmth was there in the Coppinger’s Court sun!  The second rate luminary dedicated to Cluhir was no more than a candle to it!  Mr. Coppinger’s Ant was enquired for (this, it should, perhaps, be explained, referred to Frederica, and had no entomological application) suitable regrets at her absence from home were expressed, with a delicate implication that with such a host, and in such weather, the loss was the Ant’s, and was practically negligible, so far as the ladies of Cluhir were concerned.  And who were these, coming up the path from Mr. Coppinger’s lovely river?  Ah, yes, the youngest Miss Talbot-Lowry, of course, and which brother was it?  Oh, the youngest one?  Mrs. Cassidy had thought the youngest of Lady Isabel’s family was a twins—­or were a twins?  Which ought she to say?