ght, Comtesse," and he walked to the door. "I shall be down
at nine o'clock."

And so we parted.

VIII

On the morrow it had cleared up and flashes of blue sky were
appearing. Augustus and Mr. McCormack had both had too much to drink
the night before, at dinner, and were looking, and no doubt feeling,
mixed and ill-tempered.

The morning was long after the shooters had gone. It seemed as if one
o'clock, when we were to start for the lunch, would never come.

Miss Springle had some passages-at-arms with Mrs. Dodd. They had all
been down to breakfast but Lady Wakely and another woman, who were
accustomed to the ways of the world.

I had never seen any shooting before. The whole thing was new to me.
Augustus had insisted upon selecting what he considered a suitable
costume for me. We had been up to London several times together to try
it on, and, on the whole, though a little _outre_ in its checks, it is
not unbecoming.

"Do you shoot, yourself, Mrs. Gussie?" Mrs. Dodd asked, when we
assembled in the hall, ready to start.

"No; do you?" I replied.

"Of course not! The idea! But, seeing your skirt so very short, I
should have guessed you were a sportswoman and killed the birds
yourself!" and she sniffed ominously.

"Do birds get killed with a skirt?" Miss Springle asked, pertly. She
hates Mrs. Dodd. They were neighbors In Liverpool, originally. "I
thought you had to shoot at them?"

Mrs. Dodd snorted.

"You will get awfully muddy, Mrs. Dodd, in your long cashmere," Miss
Springle continued. "And Mr. Dodd told me, when I met him coming
from the bath this morning, to be sure not to wear any colors--they
frighten the birds. I am certain he will object to that yellow
paradise-plume in your hat."

Mrs. Dodd looked ready to fight.

"Mr. Dodd had better talk to me about my hat!" she said, growing
purple in the face. "I call all these modern sporting-costumes
indecent, and when I was a girl I should have been whipped for coming
out shooting in the things you have got on, Miss Springle!"

"Really! you don't say so!" said Miss Springle, innocently, "Why, I
never heard they shot birds in Liverpool, Mrs. Dodd."

I interfered. The expression of my elder guest's face was becoming
apoplectic.

"Let us get into the brake," I said.

Lady Wakely sat next me.

"Very unpleasant person, Mrs. Dodd," she whispered, wheezily, as we
drove off, "She is here every year. My dear, you are good-natured to
put up with h