Lippa | Page 9

mother, ready to do
anything her 'dear' boy wishes. 'They only came back a week ago, I
suppose, that is how they were forgotten.'
'And if I see them I'll say something pretty that will make up, what!'
'Do you really think you could?' says Dalrymple, from the other side of
the table.
'Don't doubt it for a moment,' replies Chubby, 'Miss Seaton I know will
verify my statement.'
When all the older folk have been packed off, the dog-cart appears and
with it the 'awfully good animal,' which of course has to be admired,
and viewed from all points, before the owner sees fit to start. Lippa, of
course, has the place of honour, by the driver, much to Jimmy's disgust.

There is no need to go into details of the show, all of which are more or
less alike, with dogs of all sizes and breeds, barking in different keys,
pigs grunting and squeaking, horses neighing, cows mooing, cocks
crowing, ducks quacking; boys yelling out the price of catalogues, men
requesting people to 'walk up,' and inspect their wares, which are all
warranted to be the very best of their kind; and besides all this two
brass bands which play two different tunes at the same time. If a deaf
man suddenly recovered his hearing at a cattle show, I am sure he
would wish himself deaf again. However, some people enjoy cattle
shows, I do not, but that is neither here nor there.
Lord Dadford, J.P. for the county and owner of some fine short horns,
is surrounded by gaitered and pot-hatted men, who all appear to be
talking at once. Helmdon conducting Philippa and his sister with the
ever constant Jimmy, carefully fights shy of his father.
'What luck to have met you,' he exclaims as they run up against a pretty
woman, Mrs Lippingcott of course, and forthwith they launch into an
eager conversation with humble apologies from him and earnest
entreaties that she will grace the ball with her appearance, and with any
one who may be staying with her.
'Oh, how do you do, Miss Seaton?' makes Lippa turn, who is in earnest
conversation with Dalrymple, and see Harkness standing before her.
She would have liked to give vent to a naughty little expression, but she
merely bows saying--
'I had no idea of meeting you here, isn't it a lovely day?'
'Beautiful,' he replies, 'I am stopping with the Lippingcotts for a few
days; really the country is quite delightful after London.'
'Delicious,' replies Lippa, moving on leaving Harkness gazing at her
and Dalrymple; is that young beggar going to cut him out, it looks
uncommonly like it. Lucky fellow he is, thinks the Captain, winning
over that race last month when the odds were dead against him, and
now--

'Thank goodness!' ejaculates Miss Seaton, finding herself free from her
admirer.
'What for?' asks Dalrymple.
'Why, to get rid of him of course.'
'Poor man,' says Jimmy pensively.
'Wherefore?'
'Because he has evidently incurred your displeasure.'
'Oh,' with a little laugh, 'is my displeasure such a very dreadful thing.'
'It would be to me,' is the reply.
'Well, if you're very good, I will try and be pleased with you, it might
be unpleasant if we--'
'Will it require a great deal of trying?'
'That depends,' says Miss Seaton, glancing up in his face, to find he is
looking at her rather more earnestly than is necessary. But the
conversation is interrupted by Lady Anne.
Poor Lady Anne, there is a romance connected with her life, that
nobody knows of save her parents, and they have almost forgotten it. A
romance in which a young officer figures prominently; when Lady
Anne first came out she fell desperately in love with him, and he with
her, they plighted their troth at a London ball; but her parents said she
was too young to marry just then, and it was agreed to wait a year. But
war broke out and his regiment was 'ordered to the front.' Oh! the
sorrow conveyed in those words, how many, many went out like Lady
Anne's lover and never returned, how many lives like hers were
blighted in consequence. 'God bless you, Dick,' she had said the night
before he started, 'and I hope you will come back soon.'
'Soon,' he had repeated, 'dearest, I may never come back again.'

He was right, for he fell on the field of A----, found dead where the
fight had been fiercest; and Lady Anne's heart was broken. She did not
die of grief, nor did she appear to the world as hopelessly crushed, but
went on living just the same, with a feeling of aching emptiness, that is,
oh, so hard to bear, and she shut away from prying eyes the picture of