Sir Jasper brought a reassuring account of the poor little steed, which would be usable again after a short rest, and the blemish was the less important as there was no intention of selling him.  Mrs. Halfpenny, too, reported that her patient was as quiet as a lamb.  ’She wasn’t one to fash herself for nothing and go into screaming cries, but kenned better what was fitting for one born under Her Majesty’s colours.’

So there was nothing to hinder amusement when at dinner Sir Jasper comically described the procession as he met it.  Kalliope White, looking only too like Minerva, or some of those Greek goddess statues they used to draw about, sitting straight and upright in her triumphal car, drawn by her votary; while poor Gillian came behind with the pony on one side and the bicycle on the other, very much as if she were conducting the wheel on which she was to be broken, as an offering to the idol.

‘I think,’ said Mysie, ’Captain Henderson was like the two happy sons in Solon’s story, who dragged their mother to the temple.’

‘Only they died of it,’ said Gillian.

‘And nobody asked how the poor mother felt afterwards,’ added Lady Merrifield.

‘I thought they all had an apotheosis together,’ said Sir Jasper.  ‘Let us hope that devotion may have its reward.’

There was a little lawn outside the drawing-room windows at Il Lido.  Lady Merrifield was sitting just within, and her husband had just brought her a letter to read, when they heard Wilfred’s impish voice.

‘Jack—–­no, not Jack—–­Fangs!’

‘But Fangs’s name is Jack, so it will do as well,’ said Valetta’s voice.

‘Hurrah—–­so it is!  Jack—–­’

‘Hush, Wilfred—–­this is too foolish!’ came Gillian’s tones in remonstrance.

’Jack and Jill went up the hill
To draw—–­’

‘To draw!  Oh, that’s lovely!’ interrupted Valetta.

‘He is always drawing,’ said Gillian, with an odd laugh.

’He was brought up to it.  First teeth, and then “picturs,” and then—­ -oh, my—–­ladies home from the wash!’ went on Wilfred.

‘But go on, Will!’ entreated Valetta.

’Jack and Jill went up the hill
To draw a piece of water—–­’

‘No, no,’ put in Wilfred—–­’that’s wrong!

’To draw the sergeant’s daughter;
Fangs dragged down unto the town,
And Jill came moaning after!’

‘I didn’t moan—–­’

’Oh, you don’t know how disconsolate you looked!  Moaning, you know, because her Fangs had to draw the other young woman—–­eh, Gill?  Fangs always leave an aching void, you know.’

’You ridiculous boy!  I’m sure I wish Fangs would leave a void.  It wouldn’t ache!’

The two parents had been exchanging glances of something very like consternation, and of the mute inquiry on one side, ’Were you aware of this sort of thing? and an emphatic shake of the head on the other.  Then Sir Jasper’s voice exclaimed aloud—–­