the
development of muscular energy, which later on may be placed at the
service of the Commonwealth."

Sir Timothy Harrison at this juncture had the misfortune of expending
his muscular energy in hitting Squire Boatfield violently on the shin
with an ill-aimed ball.

"Damn!" ejaculated the latter, heedless of the strict fines imposed by
my Lord Protector on unseemly language. "I ... verily beg the ladies'
pardon ... but ... this young jackanapes nearly broke my shin-bone."

There certainly had been an exclamation of horror on the part of the
ladies at Squire Boatfield's forcible expression of annoyance, Dame
Harrison taking no pains to conceal her disapproval.

"Horrid, coarse creature, this neighbor of yours, good Sir Marmaduke,"
she said with her usual air of decision. "Meseems he is not fit company
for your ward."

"Dear Squire Boatfield," sighed Mistress Pyncheon, who was evidently
disposed to be more lenient, "how good-humoredly he bears it! Clumsy
people should not be trusted in a skittle alley," she added in a mild
way, which seemed to be peculiarly exasperating to Dame Harrison's
irascible temper.

"I pray you, Sir Timothy," here interposed Lady Sue, trying to repress
the laughter which would rise to her lips, "forgive poor Squire John.
You scarce can expect him to moderate his language under such
provocation."

"Oh! his insults leave me completely indifferent," said the young man
with easy unconcern, "his calling me a jackanapes doth not of necessity
make me one."

"No!" retorted Squire Boatfield, who was still nursing his shin-bone,
"maybe not, Sir Timothy, but it shows how observant I am."

"Oliver, pick up Lady Sue's handkerchief," came in mild accents from
Mistress Pyncheon.

"Quite unnecessary, good mistress," rejoined Dame Harrison decisively,
"Sir Timothy has already seen it."

And while the two young men made a quick and not altogether successful
dive for her ladyship's handkerchief, colliding vigorously with one
another in their endeavor to perform this act of gallantry
single-handed, Lady Sue gazed down on them, with good-humored contempt,
laughter and mischief dancing in her eyes. She knew that she was good to
look at, that she was rich, and that she had the pick of the county,
aye, of the South of England, did she desire to wed. Perhaps she thought
of this, even whilst she laughed at the antics of her bevy of courtiers,
all anxious to win her good graces.

Yet even as she laughed,