They walked on in silence. Jack was still smarting under a sense of injury; yet the steady, friendly hand on his arm seemed to smooth down his ruffled feelings, whether he would or no.

"You know how it is," he said, presently, speaking in a more natural voice. "I have been thinking so long about the home-coming! I thought it was going to be – just the same. I thought I should have you all to myself; and now – "

"Jack, dear," said Hildegarde, quietly, "are you thinking of falling in love with me, by any chance?"

Jack looked down at her with startled eyes.

"Why – no! I wasn't, Hilda; but I will, if you want me to. I – what makes you say that? I thought we were brother and sister."

"I thought so, too," said Hildegarde, smiling. "But if my brother is going to show his teeth and growl at all the other dogs – I mean boys – he meets, I don't think I shall find it comfortable. There was a dog in a manger once; perhaps you have heard of him."

Jack winced, but owned he had.

"And – and even if you were not my brother," Hildegarde went on, "the idea of being jealous of the twins is so funny that – well, when you know them, Jack, you will laugh as much as I did. They are not that kind of boy, at all. No boys were ever less so."

"That red-haired fellow," said Jack, still distrustful; "what was he saying about skating with you before? I thought he sounded decidedly spoony, Hilda. I won't be disagreeable any more, but I say this seriously."

"Gerald! naughty, naughty Gerald! that was so like him! He is quick as a flash, Jack, and he said that just to torment you. I have never skated with him in my life; I never knew them till this last summer. Oh, he is such a funny boy! Come on, and I will tell you some of his pranks as we go along!"

Gerald and Philip Merryweather walked home in moody silence. They came upon a loose stone, and kicked it along before them with savage and purposeful kicks. Neither mentioned the fact of the stone's representing any particular person, but when either made a specially successful kick, he looked at the other for sympathy, and found it in a grim nod and chuckle. Only once did they break silence.

"Poor Codger!" said Gerald.

"H'm!" growled Philip, assenting.

"Know when he's coming?"

"No! Don't suppose it will make any difference, though."

"S'pose not!"

"H'm!"

Reaching the house, they sat down on the steps and pitched gravel stones in gloomy rivalry. So sitting, it chanced that Bell came upon them; Bell, with a face more than commonly bright (though she was always one of the most cheerful of mortals), with her hands full of ground pine, fresh from a walk in the woods, humming a fragment of the Mendelssohn Concerto.

"What's the matter with my boys?" she demanded, promptly.

"Nothing!" responded the twins, with alacrity. And they lowered like toppling thunderclouds.

"Then tell me all about it!" said Sister Bell, sitting down on the step, and taking a hand of each.

"What happened to my twinnies? Did some one throw away their tadpoles, or did the dog eat their molasses candy?"

This allusion to early misfortunes could generally bring a smile, but this time it failed, and Bell looked from one to the other in genuine concern.

"Phil! Jerry! What is it?" she asked again. "Oh, there has been no bad news, boys? Roger! – "

Gerald groaned.

"Roger!" he said. "That's just it, Bell! No, nothing of the kind you mean. He's well, poor dear old Codger. Better than he will be, when he hears what is going on."

"What is going on? Come, boys, I really must know."

"We met Hilda just now," said Gerald. "Her cousin's come; kind of fiddler-chap from Germany. I'm afraid it's all up with the Codger, Bell."

"Indeed!" said Bell, quietly. "And what makes you think that, Jerry?"

"Oh, we met them just now! He – he's about nine feet tall, to begin with."

"That is a beginning! Where does he expect to end? But I have seen Mr. Ferrers, Jerry. I saw him last night."

"You did? Why didn't you tell a fellow?"

"Oh, I – I – hardly know!" said downright Bell, unused to even the whitest fib. She really could not, perhaps, have put into words the feeling that had kept her silent about the scene of the night before.

"But that is no matter!" she went on. "What else is the matter with him, besides height? He can't help that, you know."

"I don't suppose he can. But he can help making up to Hilda, Bell, and he'd better!" savagely. "Only it's too late now, I suppose!" despondently. "Why on earth the fellow couldn't stay and fiddle over there, where he's wanted, – don't admire their taste, by the way! – instead of coming over here to spoil everything, is more than I know!"

"Horrid shame!" murmured Phil, taking careful aim with a pebble at an innocent cat that was crossing the lawn.

Bell struck his hand up.

"I won't have the cats teased, Phil! And as for all this nonsense – "

"It isn't nonsense!" cried both boys, earnestly.

"I tell you we met them just now," Gerald went on, "and when he saw us, he looked black as thunder, and had hardly manners to speak to us. Perfectly odious; wasn't he, Ferguson?"

"Absolutely!" echoed Phil.

"And you were very cordial to him, of course?" said Bell. "You let him see that you were glad to meet him, and that as Hilda's warm friends you were anxious to welcome her cousin cordially, and to show him all the courtesy you could?"

The twins looked at each other. Bell had an extraordinary way of putting things sometimes.

"We didn't do anything of the sort!" said Phil, with an attempt at bluster.

"Because if you did not," his sister went on, "I am afraid you must have seemed very rude, my children. Rude and silly!"

"I wouldn't call names, Tintinnabula!" said Gerald, turning red.

"Sorry to be obliged to," retorted his sister, in perfect good humour. "But if you looked at Mr. Ferrers as you are looking now, there really can be no doubt about the matter. Now listen, boys! I know – Hilda has told me – a great deal about this Mr. Jack Ferrers. Hilda loves him dearly, as dearly as if he were her own brother, and in exactly the same way. You need not shake your heads and try to look wise, my dears, because you are not wise! You are two very foolish boys, who are trying to run your heads against a stone wall when there is no wall there. That is the state of the case about Mr. Ferrers. I know Hildegarde pretty well, and I am sure of what I am saying. You need have no fear of him. As for Roger, – well, I don't think you need have any fear for Roger either."

"Has he – has she – do you think they are – "

"Hush!" cried Bell, putting a hand over the mouth of each. "I don't think anything! At least – well, that isn't true, of course; but it does no good to talk about these things, dear boys. I do not think Hilda and Roger are – are engaged." Bell dropped her voice to a whisper. "But I feel quite sure they will be some day, when the time comes. I think they understand each other very well. Roger will be here soon; suppose you leave it all to him, Phil and Jerry, and don't worry about it. But there is one thing you can do, and it should be done soon."

"What?" cried both boys, eagerly.

"Put on your good clothes, and your good manners, and go to call at Roseholme."

"We'll be shot if we will!" cried the twins.

"Be just as nice as you know how to be to Mr. Jack Ferrers. He – he is a remarkable person, I have reason to think. You see," she spoke rather hastily, "Hilda has told me so much about him. And I – well, I heard him play last night, and he is a very wonderful performer, boys. You never, in your little lives, heard anything like his playing. He is too much in love with his art to think of any such nonsense as has been troubling your silly heads; you will understand that, the moment you hear him."

Gerald made a feeble protest to the effect that he hated fiddling, but there was little hope in his tone. And he was promptly reminded of his having spent his last fifty cents the winter before on a ticket for Sarasate's concert, and saying that it was the best investment he ever made.

The boys knew that their cause was lost; and when Bell added, as a clincher, "Ask Mammy, and see what she says," they retired from the unequal contest.

"Oh, we know what Mammy will say! Don't hit us when we are down, Bell. We'll go, and make asses of ourselves as well as we know how."

"Oh, not that, dears, I entreat!" cried Bell; and then ran swiftly into the house, laughing.

The twins resumed their occupation of pitching gravel stones, but a change had come over their spirits. Phil was actually whistling, and Gerald hummed a bass with perfect cheerfulness. The cat came back across the lawn, and they threw stones before her nose and behind her tail, avoiding contact with her person (for she was a beloved cat, in hours of joy), and contenting themselves with seeing her skip hither and thither in uninjured surprise.

"Philly!"

"Yes, Jerry!"

"Us feels a lot better, don't us, Philly?"

"H'm!" said Phil, and the sound was now one of content and peace.

"She's not a bad sort, the Tintinnabula!" Gerald went on, meditatively. "She doesn't harry a fellow, as some fellows' sisters do. She pokes you up and smooths you down at the same time, somehow. That's the way a girl ought to be – my opinion. Come along, Ferguson, and let's do something to celebrate!"

"All right!" said Phil. "What shall we do?"

"Oh, any old thing! Come along!"

And they went and wrestled in the conservatory, and broke three flower-pots, and had a delightful morning.

CHAPTER XII.
JIMMY'S POND

So it came to pass that, as Jack Ferrers was strolling about the garden with Hugh after dinner, talking about old times, and pausing at every other step to greet some favourite shrub or stick or stone, – it came to pass that he heard steps at the gate, and, turning, saw the Messrs. Merryweather, holding themselves very straight, and looking very sheepish. They had compromised with Bell on skating dress, instead of the detested "good clothes," and Gerald carried several pairs of skates in his hand. They fumbled with the latch a moment, during which Jack felt extremely young, and was conscious of redness creeping up to his ears. But then, they were quite as red, he reflected; and, after all, as Hilda said, he was two years older than these boys, and if they really were all she made them out to be – why —

So it was a very different-looking Jack who advanced to meet the embarrassed boys at the gate. It was perhaps the first time in his young life that Gerald had been embarrassed, and he found the sensation unpleasant.

Before any of them could speak, however, a joyous whoop was heard from another quarter. Hugh had been investigating an old nest, and had just caught sight of the friends from Pumpkin House. He came running now, his face alight with welcome.

"Oh, Jerry! How do you do? How do you do, Phil? I am very well, thank you! Do you know my Jack? Because he has come home; and he is almost the dearest person in the world. And he has grown up his own beanstalk, he says, and that is what makes him so tall. And he has brought me the most beautiful soldiers that ever were, and we are going to have battles, even the prancings, the prancings of their mighty ones! Hurrah!"

"Hurrah it is!" said Jack. "How d'ye do?" And he held out his hand cordially enough. "Awfully good of you to bring the skates! Come in, won't you, and see my father and my uncle?"

"Didn't know whether you liked Acmes or Clubs," said Gerald, "so I brought both. Clubs are the best, we all think."

"So do I! These are just right, I think. Awfully good of you, I'm sure! You ought to see the things they wear in Germany; like the old ones Uncle Tom has hanging up in that trophy in the hall."

Chatting cheerfully, they moved on towards the house, taking note of one another as they went. Jack found the tones of the boys' voices very clear and good, free from any nasal quality; Phil and Gerald decided that there must be a good deal of muscle in those long, lean arms, and that it would not be so easy to "lick" the stranger as they had thought on first seeing him.

On Phil's remarking that his sisters and the "kids" had gone across the fields to the pond, there to await the rest of the party, Jack said he would be ready in three minutes, and ushered them into the library, where the two reunited brothers were peacefully smoking together. The Colonel received the boys most cordially, and, while Jack hurried away to put on jersey and knickerbockers, presented them to "My brother Raymond. Jack's father, young gentlemen! I trust you and my nephew Jack will be friends. The young should be friendly, – eh, Raymond? My brother Raymond, boys, is a man of genius. He is probably studying the lines of a fiddle at this moment, – an imaginary fiddle, you understand, – and I doubt if he is aware of your presence, or of one word I have been saying."

"Not quite so bad as that, Tom!" said Mr. Ferrers, holding out his hand to the boys, with the peculiarly sweet smile that won all hearts to him at the first glance, "not quite so bad as that. I am delighted to see you, young gentlemen. I have already heard a good deal about your cheerful circle here. I am, it is true, somewhat absent-minded, – "

"Absent-minded! Jupiter Capitolinus! When it comes to a man putting sugar and cream on his mutton-chop at breakfast, – "

"How do you know that I do not prefer it so, Tom? We have many curious customs in Virginia, you know. It wasn't bad, really!"

"Not bad!" snorted the Colonel. "Five-year-old mutton, hung a fortnight, and broiled by Elizabeth Beadle; and this man treats it as a pudding, and then says it was not bad! Elizabeth Beadle wept when Giuseppe told her about it; shed tears, sir! Said there was no pleasure in feeding you."

"Poor Elizabeth!" said Raymond Ferrers, laughing. "Dear, good soul! I must go and ask her to make me some molasses cookies with scalloped edges. Will that pacify her, Tom? Where is the boy?"

"Raymond, do not try me further than I can bear!" said his brother, with marked ferocity. "Ask for the boy every five minutes, my dear brother! a shorter interval than that is beyond my powers of endurance, which have their limits. The boy, sir, if you persist in applying that epithet to a young giraffe who has already scraped more paint off my lintels than I can supply in six months, – well, I will make it three, if you specially desire it, – is putting on his togs, to go skating with these young fellows. And what is more, Raymond, I know two old fellows who are going to be asses enough to put on their togs and go skating with the youngsters. Come along, sir! Jimmy's Pond, Ray! Come along!"

A pleasant sight was Jimmy's Pond an hour later, when all the party had assembled. Hildegarde came in regal state, escorted by Colonel Ferrers and his brother, one walking on either side, while the three tall lads strode along before, now thoroughly at ease with each other, and Hugh capered and curveted in the rear. The child had a horse's tail fastened to his belt behind, and was Pegasus on Helicon, oblivious of all things earthly.

They found Bell and Gertrude awaiting them, their cheeks already glowing from a preliminary tour of the pond. In the distance Willy and Kitty could be seen tugging each other valiantly along, falling and scrambling down and up. Bell was looking her best, in her trim suit of brown velveteen, with the pretty little mink cap. Hildegarde thought her more like a snow-apple than ever, and hoped Jack saw how pretty and sweet she was. Air-castles are pleasant building, and our Hildegarde had one well under way already; a castle whose walls should rise to the sound of music, and in which two happy people should play, play, play, all day and every day.

Hildegarde herself, in dark blue corduroy trimmed with chinchilla, was very good to look at, and more than one pair of eyes followed her as she swept along in graceful curves, holding Hugh's hands in hers.

"A very lovely young creature, Tom!" said Raymond Ferrers, as he stood a while, after fastening his skates. "Not so beautiful as her mother. I find Mildred more beautiful than ever, Tom."

"You were always near-sighted, Raymond, you will allow me to observe!" cried the Colonel, ruffling instantly. "I admire Mrs. Grahame beyond any woman – of her age – that lives. She is a noble woman, sir! an admirable creature! But to say that she compares in looks with a blooming creature like that, – a princess, by Jove! A young Diana, the very sight of whom makes a man young again. By the way, Raymond," he added, after a pause, in an altered voice. "I don't know, my dear fellow, whether you have noticed any – a – resemblance, any look of – eh?"

"Yes, indeed, my dear Tom; I noticed it instantly. Sweet Hester! This might be her younger sister. Yes! yes! Tempo passato, eh, brother? We are old fellows, but we once were young."

"Stuff and nonsense!" cried the Colonel, throwing off his mood with sudden violence. "Speak for yourself, sir! If a man chooses to spend his days hunched over a table, making fiddles, I don't say how things may turn out with him; but for myself, – here, Young Sir! bring me a hockey-stick, will you?"

Hugh, prancing by in full career, paused, and surveyed his guardian with dreamy eyes.

"Hi-hi-hi!" he replied, with a creditable attempt at a whinny.

The Colonel stiffened to "attention."

"What did I understand you to remark, sir?" he inquired. "I experience a difficulty in following your interesting observation."

"Hi-hi-hi!" repeated the boy. "I am Pegasus; I do not understand your language. I will find Bellerophon, and send him to you."

He retired a few paces, and gravely removed his tail, then came back, beaming with cheerfulness, every inch a boy.

"What was it you wanted, Guardian?" he cried. "I was a horse then, you see, so I really couldn't; please excuse me!"

"I wanted a hockey-stick, sir!" said the Colonel, with some severity. "And it is my opinion that two-legged horses would better keep their wits about them.

"A game of hockey, Raymond," here he turned to his brother, "will warm your blood, and bring back your wits. 'Polo,' they call it nowadays; parcel of fools! It's my belief that nine-tenths of the human race to-day don't know what they are talking about. Don't understand their own language, sir! Polo, indeed! Ha! here are the sticks. Now we shall see about this 'old fellow' business!"

Indeed, it was a marvellous thing to see the agility of the Colonel in his favourite sport. He swept here and there, he made the most astonishing hits, he hooked the ball from under the very noses of the amazed and delighted boys. Raymond Ferrers, too, after watching the sport for a few minutes, yielded to the spirit of the hour, and was soon cutting away with the best of them.

A pleasant sight was Jimmy's Pond, indeed! The pond itself was a thing of beauty, a disk of crystal dropped down in a hollow of dark woods; dropped into the middle of this again, a tiny islet, with a group of slender firs, lovely to behold. And dotted here and there on the shining gray-silver of the ice, these happy players, young and old, darted hither and thither, filled with the joy of the hour and the pleasure of each other's presence.

It might have been interesting, could one have stood invisible on the bank, to hear the fragments of talk, as the different groups swept by in the chase. They seemed to drop naturally into couples, without any special prearrangement. First came the two brothers, intent on the ball, bent on keeping it ahead of them, and unconscious of anything else.

"Now, sir!" the Colonel would cry. "Let me see you beat that! Hi! There she – no! she doesn't! Ha! ha! Beat you that time, sir!

"'Poor old Raymound,
Fell into a hay-mound!'

"Do you remember that, sir? Only rhyme I ever made in my life; proud as a peacock I was of it, sir! And what was the scurrilous verse you made about me?"

"'Tommy, Tommy Tantrum,
Crowing like a bantrum!'"

said his brother, laughing.

"I always call them 'bantrums,' always shall. Aha! Where are you now, boy? Off she goes!"

Next came Gertrude and Phil, swinging easily along together.

"So glad he is really nice, because he looks so, and it would be so horrid if he were horrid, wouldn't it, Phil? And Bell says he plays – oh, wonderfully, you know."

"Playing isn't everything in the world, Toots! But he does seem to be a good fellow enough. Told us a lot, coming over here, about the way he lived over in Germany. I say! I'd like to go there! Two or three duels every day; great sport, it must be!"

Now it was Willy and Kitty, skating away sturdily, with short, energetic strokes, and holding each other up bravely.

"So he asked me if I would swap with him for another hard one, and I said yes, if it was hard enough; for this Mexican one, you see, was very hard indeed. He said it was.

"So I said all right, hand it over. Well, it was just the end of recess, and he handed it over, all scrumpled up, in a kind of hurry, and I crammed it into my pocket without looking. And when I came to look at it after school, it was a mean old three-cent 'Norji.' So I knocked him down, and it just happened that one of his old teeth was loose, and it came out. I was glad of it, and so were all the fellows, for he meant to cheat, you see; that's why I had the black marks."

Now come Jack and Bell, she a little out of breath, being unused to skating with a giraffe; he all unconscious, discoursing high themes.

"Yes, a good many people play it short, with a kind of choppiness. I hate to hear a violin chop. But J – gives it with a long, smooth crescendo that seems to carry you straight out of the room, you know, out into the open air, and up among tree-tops. Do you ever feel that way? You seem to feel the air blowing all about you, and – hear all the voices that are shut up in the trees and flowers, and can't get out generally. You know what I mean, I am sure!"

"Yes," says Bell, softly. "But they are all answering to the violin, don't you think? They would not speak to the piano in that way."

"Depends upon who plays it," says gallant Jack. And Hildegarde, close behind, hears, and stumbles a little, and catches Gerald's hand, laughing.

"Take them both!" says Gerald. "Take, incidentally, my heart with them; unless its size and its lacerated condition would make the burden unwelcome, Hilda?"

"I doubt if I should notice," says Hildegarde. "Yes, I will take both hands, Jerry; let us try the outer edge, now. There! that is a delightful swing! You do skate very well, my child."

"Ah! you should see Roger skate!" cried loyal Gerald; and is rewarded by seeing a very pretty blush deepen in his companion's bright cheek.

"Good old Codger! I wish he were here, skating with you, Hilda!"

"Thank you!" says Hilda. "I am sorry to incommode you, Gerald. I can skate perfectly well alone, thank you. There! Don't be absurd, Jerry! You'll get out of step if you don't take care. Do you think we could do a figure of eight together? Let's try!"

Last of all, alone, yet in a world peopled with fantastic joys, came little Hugh. He had his tail on again, and he was skating with a high-stepping gait, rather more suggestive of trotting than was compatible with safety. He murmured to himself as he went, and his talk was far from hockey or any delights of skating.

"Yonder, dear Bellerophon! look yonder, far down below this fleecy cloud that I am just going to plunge into! Now wait till I get through it, and you will see. The cloud is all full of monsters, whales, and crocodiles, and – hairy mammoths; and we have to plunge through them, and they claw after us and try to catch us. But I switch my tail, dear Bellerophon" (here he switched the tail vigorously), "and that frightens them, so that they crawl back into their holes, the ugly things. But down on the earth there, do you see three little spires of smoke, right by the mouth of that black hole? That is the Chimæra, Bellerophon! We have come all the way, and now we are going to have the most terrible fight that any one ever had, – Samson or Hercules or any one else. Aha! now is the time, you see, for me to say 'Aha' among the trumpets; that is why I made you bring your trumpet along. My neck is clothed with thunder, and I am pawing in the valley. See me paw!"

Alas, for the winged steed! Pawing in the valley is a dangerous pastime on smooth ice, and unsustained by hind legs. Pegasus, his head high in air, looking forward to battle and glory, paid little attention to things at his feet. His skate caught in a crack, and, checked in full speed, he came heavily to the ground, and lay motionless.

Hildegarde and Gerald heard the crash, and were at his side in a moment, raising him. The little fellow was stunned, and there was an ugly cut on his forehead.

"Hugh, dear!" cried Hildegarde. "Is it very bad, little boy? You are all right now; Jerry and I are here, and you will be feeling better in a moment."

She took the child's head in her lap, and stanched the blood with her handkerchief, rubbing his temples gently, while Gerald chafed his hands. Presently Hugh opened his eyes. At first his look was vacant, but soon the light came back into the blue eyes, and he tried to smile.

"I pawed too hard!" he whispered. "Beloved, it wasn't the right valley to paw in."

Hildegarde and Gerald exchanged glances.

"He's a little out!" murmured Gerald. "We'd better get him home as quick as we can. Phil and I will carry him."

By this time the others, looking back, had seen that something was wrong, and came hurrying back. Colonel Ferrers turned very white when he saw Hugh lying motionless, his head pillowed on Hildegarde's lap, and the red stain on his temple.

"My little boy!" he gasped. "Jack, where are you? The child! The child is hurt!" Jack was already bending over Hugh; indeed, the anxious group pressed so close that Hildegarde motioned them to back.

"I don't think he is much hurt," she said, looking up at the Colonel, and speaking as cheerfully as she could. "He spoke to me just now, Colonel Ferrers. He was stunned by the fall. I don't think the cut amounts to anything, really."

"No," said Jack, who had been examining the cut, "this isn't anything, Uncle Tom. It's the shock that is the trouble, and he'll be over that in a minute. You're better already, aren't you, old chap?"

Hugh opened his eyes again, but slowly, as if it were an effort.

"How do you do?" he said, politely. "Yes, I am better, thank you, but not quite well yet. You did not seem to understand what I said, so I thought I would wait till I could speak better."

Seeing Jack look bewildered, Gerald whispered, "He was talking nonsense. He takes you for me now; it was to me he was talking."

"I was not talking nonsense!" said Hugh, clearly. "I said I had been pawing in the valley, and that this was not the right valley to paw in. It wasn't! My Beloved will understand what I mean, if she uses her mind."

"He was a horse!" cried the Colonel. "Astonishing thing, that nobody can understand that child, when he is speaking perfectly rationally. He was a horse, I tell you! Whinnied at me, sir, when I asked him to get me a hockey-stick. Try it again, Boy! Let's hear you once more, eh?"

Hugh smiled, but could not do more than shake his head.

"Thank you for explaining, Guardian!" he said. "I was Pegasus, you see, and Bellerophon and I were just going to plunge down through the clouds and kill the Chimæra; but I forgot where I was for a minute, and began to paw in the valley, and say 'Aha!' and, of course, the cloud broke through, and down we went. I hope dear Bellerophon isn't hurt."

"Bellerophon is all right!" said Jack. "Right as a trivet. He says he thinks you'd better go home, old man; he thinks it will be better Chimæra-hunting to-morrow, anyhow."

"Yes! yes!" cried the Colonel, making a brave effort to enter into the child's idea.

"Go back to the stable, Boy, – I mean Dobbin, or whatever your name is, and – and have some hay!"

But Hugh's brow contracted.

"Pegasus didn't eat hay!" he murmured, still leaning against Hildegarde's shoulder.

"No, dear," said the girl. "The Colonel did not mean hay; he meant asphodels and amaranth and moly."

"That sounds better," said Hugh.

"I say," whispered Gerald, who was beginning to recover from his alarm, "you know, I suppose, that asphodel is a kind of pigweed?"

"Hush! Yes! There is no need of the child's knowing it yet. How shall we get him home, Jack?"

"But I will walk home!" cried Hugh, hearing the last words. "I will perhaps trot home, only slowly."

He tried to rise, but sank back again.

"It appears as if there were wheels in my head," he murmured. "They go round too fast."

"Of course they do," said Jack, in the most matter-of-fact way. "I'm going to harness myself into them, and take you home that way. Put him up on my back, will you, Merryweather? So! there we are!"

Delighted to find himself in the once familiar position, Hugh looked up to smile at the anxious Colonel, who stood wiping his brow, and wishing for once that he were twenty and a giraffe.

"I'm all right now, Guardian!" he said. "All right, Beloved! My Jack is an ostrich again, and I am not Pegasus any more just now. I am only Hugh. Good-bye! Good hunting!"

"Only Hugh!" repeated Colonel Ferrers, gazing after the two, as they went across the field, Jack walking steadily, with long, even steps, very different from his usual hop-skip-and-jump method of progression.

"Only Hugh! Only the greater part of the world – eh? what are you saying, Hilda, my dear?"

"Only that we will go home together, dear Colonel Ferrers!" said Hildegarde, who had already taken off her skates. "We will go back together, and the others can follow whenever they are ready. We shall find him comfortable already, with Mrs. Beadle tucking him up in bed, and talking about chicken broth and wine jelly, neither of which he will need in the least. Come, dear sir!"

"I will come!" said the Colonel. "You are a good child, Hilda! I – I am rather shaken, I believe. I will come with pleasure, my love! Be good enough to take my arm!"