encircling her neat waist with his arm.

A sweet smile dimpled her plump cheeks, and chased the recollection of the
former answer away.

It would not be pretty--indeed, we could not pretend to give even the
outline of the conversation that followed. It was carried on in such broken
and disjointed sentences, eyes and squeezes doing so much more work than
words, that even a reporter would have had to draw largely upon his
imagination for the substance. Suffice it to say that, though the
thermometer was below zero, they never moved out of a foot's pace; the very
hounds growing tired of the trail, and slinking off one by one as the
opportunity occurred.

A dazzling sun was going down with a blood-red glare, and the partially
softened ground was fast resuming its fretwork of frost, as our hero and
heroine were seen sauntering up the western avenue to Nonsuch House, as
slowly and quietly as if it had been the hottest evening in summer.

'Here's old Coppertops!' exclaimed Captain Seedeybuck, as, turning round in
the billiard-room to chalk his cue, he espied them crawling along. 'And
Lucy!' added he as he stood watching them.

'How slowly they come!' observed Bob Spangles, going to the window.

'Must have tired their horses,' suggested Captain Quod.

'Just the sort of man to tire a horse,' rejoined Bob Spangles.

'Hate that Sponge,' observed Captain Cutitfat.

'So do I,' replied Captain Quod.

'Well, never mind the beggar! It's you to play!' exclaimed Bob Spangles to
Captain Seedeybuck.

But Lady Scattercash, who was observing our friends from her boudoir
window, saw with a woman's eye that there was something more than a mere
case of tired horses; and, tripping downstairs, she arrived at the front
door just as the fair Lucy dropped smilingly from her horse into Mr.
Sponge's extended arms. Hurrying up into the boudoir, Lucy gave her
ladyship one of Mr. Sponge's modified kisses, revealing the truth more
eloquently than words could convey.

'Oh,' Lady Scattercash was '_so_ glad!' '_so_ delighted!' '_so_ charmed!'

Mr. Sponge was _such_ a _nice_ man, and _so rich_. She was sure he was
rich--couldn't hunt if he wasn't. Would advise Lucy to have a good
settlement, in case he broke his neck. And pin-money! pin-money was most
useful! no husband ever let his wife have enough money. Must forget all
about Harry Dacre and Charley Brown, and the swell in the Blues. Must be
prudent for the future. Mr. Sponge would never know a