"There is Fane!" says Milly suddenly, as we roll smoothly along under the shadow of the giant trees that line the park; and there, sure enough, in the distance, sneakily dodging behind a tree, and looking very hot, dirty, and ashamed of himself, is her missing lord and master.
Did I ever say that Fane is only a few years older than Milly, and that they are a very young couple indeed? Every Sunday morning, regularly as clockwork, does Milly make Fane dress to go to church with her, and every Sunday morning at the very last moment does he succeed in making his escape, and she has to go without him. This morning he has seduced Captain Oliver from the path of duty, and the pair have evidently been up to some unlawful amusement, for they appear exceedingly anxious to hide their persons from our view. But Milly gets out of the carriage and majestically walks across the grass to where they lie perdu. (Where could she have learnt that dignified swagger? I should like to see her try it on with the governor), and we all follow.
Fane and his companion, thus run to earth, emerge and present their disreputable persons to our gaze. Their light summer suits are all patched and stained with green, as though they had been rolling on the grass. The Captain's face is scratched, and so is Fane's hand. Half a dozen dogs are tearing round and round a tree, at the top of which a piteous miau! sufficiently explains the nature of these gentlemen's Sunday morning amusements.
"I am disgusted with you, Fane," says Milly; "and as to you, Captain Oliver, I am surprised at you."
And she sails away with her lord, leaving poor Captain Oliver utterly squashed. He does not know that it is Milly's habit to visit all her husband's misdeeds upon his friends, and that nothing will ever make her believe that they do not lead him into every scrape—not he them.
"Poor Oliver!" says Paul, as we walk away, leaving that abased
