uld find. He is a man whom no
one could despise, for he has nothing despicable about him. But, best of
all, he is true, and that, I think, is the bedrock of all virtues."

"But he is so conceited," I remarked.

"That does not make him any the less lovable. I know another young person
very conceited, and it does not prevent me from loving her dearly," here
aunt Helen smiled affectionately at me. "What you complain of in Harold
will wear off presently--life has been very easy for him so far, you see."

"But, auntie, I'm sure he thinks he could have any girl for the asking."

"Well, he has a great number to choose from, for they all like him."

"Yes, just for his money," I said scornfully. "But I'll surprise him if
he thinks he can get me for the asking."

"Sybylla, never flirt. To play with a man's heart, I think, is one of the
most horribly unwomanly actions our sex can be guilty of."

"I would scorn to flirt with any man," I returned with vigour. "Play with
a man's heart! You'd really think they had such a thing, aunt Helen, to
hear you talk. Hurt their vanity for a few days is the most a woman could
do with any of them. I am sick of this preach, preach about playing with
men's hearts. It is an old fable which should have been abolished long
ago. It does not matter how a woman is played with."

"Sybylla, you talk at random. The shortcomings of men are no excuse for
you to be unwomanly," said aunt Helen.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The 9th of November 1896

The Prince of Wales's birthday up the country was celebrated as usual
thereaway by the annual horse-races on the Wyambeet course, about
fourteen miles from Caddagat.

The holding of these races was an elderly institution, and was followed
at night by a servants' ball given by one of the squatters. Last year it
had been Beecham's ball, the year before Bossier's, and this year it was
to take place in the woolshed of James Grant of Yabtree. Our two girls,
the gardener, and Joe Slocombe the groom, were to be present, as also
were all the other employees about. Nearly every one in the
district--masters and men--attended the races. We were going, Frank Hawden
volunteering to stay and mind the house.

We started at nine o'clock. Grannie and uncle Boss sat in the front scat
of the buggy, and aunt Helen and I occupied the back. Uncle always drove
at a good round gallop. His idea was to have good horses, not donkeys,
and not to spare them, as there were plenty