elen
and grannie went to talk to them, but I stayed with uncle Jay-Jay while
he took the horses out. Somehow I was feeling very disappointed. I had
expected Harold Beecham to be alone. He had attended on me so absolutely
everywhere I had met him lately, that I had unconsciously grown to look
upon him as mine exclusively; and now, seeing he would belong to his own
party of ladies for the day, things promised to be somewhat flat
without him.

"I told that devil of a Joe to be sure and turn up as soon as I arrived. I
wanted him to water the horses, but I can't see him anywhere--the
infernal, crawling, doosed idiot!" ejaculated uncle Julius.

"Never mind, uncle, let him have his holiday. I suppose he'd like to have
time to spoon with his girl. I can easily water the horses."

"That would suit Joe, I have no doubt; but I don't pay him to let you
water the horses. I'll water 'em myself."

He led one animal, I took the other, and we went in the direction of
water a few hundred yards away.

"You run along to your grannie and the rest of them, and I'll go by
myself," said uncle, but I kept on with the horse.

"You mustn't let a five-guinea hat destroy your hopes altogether," he
continued, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "If you stick to your
guns you have a better show than anyone to bag the boss of Five-Bob."

"I am at a loss to interpret your innuendo, Mr Bossier," I said stiffly.

"Now, little woman, you think you are very smart, but you can't deceive
me. I've seen the game you and Harry have been up to this last month. If
it had been any other man, I would have restricted your capers long ago."

"Uncle--" I began.

"Now, Sybylla, none of your crammers. There is no harm in being a bit
gone on Harry. It's only natural, and just what I'd expect. I've known
him since he was born, and he's a good all-round fellow. His head is
screwed on the right way, his heart is in the right place, and his
principles are tip-top. He could give you fal-de-rals and rubbish to no
end, and wouldn't be stingy either. You'll never get a better man. Don't
you be put out of the running so cheaply: hold your own and win, that's
my advice to you. There is nothing against him, only temper--old Nick
himself isn't a patch on him for temper."

"Temper!" I exclaimed. "He is always so quiet and pleasant."

"Yes, he controls it well. He's a fellow with a will like iron, and that
is what you want, as I find you have none of your own. But be