DO YOU REMEMBER?

Toney Whitburn pulled in her thorough-bred suddenly by a gap in the park and looked at her companion. The two had met by chance and they had had a canter together, so that the exercise had made the girl look radiant, and her hair, though twisted round her well-shaped head, rebelled at the restriction, and in protest curled itself round her temples and the nape of her neck.

"Do you know—I'm twenty-one to-morrow. Isn't it terrible?"

"Terrible!" answered the young Squire, Lewis Waycott, with a smile half of amusement and half of sympathy.

"You don't think so, but I do! You know I've honestly tried to become 'a young lady with expectations.' I've been to a finishing school at Paris, and I've tried to learn German at Dresden, and I've gone to sleep through ever so many concerts, and I've seen all the old things at Rome—and yet——"

"You haven't succeeded? You are just the same as you were, thank Heaven!"

Toney's joyous laugh woke the echoes.

"No, I've failed utterly, though, honest Injun, I have tried! Aunt Dove says so! She's always implying what a national misfortune it is that to-morrow I shall be my own mistress, but now, will you—you have always been awfully chummy—will you be the judge?"

"Between you and Lady Dove?"

"Yes. You know I offered to be her companion—and I meant it——"

"You always mean what you say, Toney."

"I try to because Pups always did— Oh, if only he could just come to me now and say, 'Toney, you must'—no, he always said we must—do this and that with our money."

"I wish he could—but if you ask me, Toney, I should say give it all to Lady Dove, as she seems mighty jealous of your having it."

For a moment Toney looked at her companion with wide open and surprised eyes, then she answered gravely,

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes, I do," he muttered.

"You are quite wrong. The dear old General would rise from his grave if I gave away his present. Oh, I couldn't; besides—I believe he wished Aunt Dove not to have it, so it would be betraying trust if—— No, I've got to keep it, but the thing is what I'm to do with it!"

"It's not many people who are puzzled what to do with money. I suppose—you'll——"

"What? I never knew you jib before."

"I was going to say you'll have lots of offers—and marry some Nabob——"

Toney laughed.

"How odd you should say that! Do you know, I wanted to ask your opinion about that very thing, because I can trust you. What does one say if people make you offers?"

The two had been waiting by the gate that led into the plantation. It was a lovely October day with the sunshine turning yellow leaves into gold and decay made glorious by its touches. Toney was so unconscious that her remark was at all comical, that her companion dared not laugh, nor did he even dare to look surprised.

"If you love the man, say 'yes,' and if you don't, say 'no.'"

"Thank you. I see it does seem easy and simple. Dear old Crumpet—by the way, this was the gap she went through on our first visit to you—do you remember? Well, when we went to Italy together——"

"Lady Dove did not approve!"

"Of course not, but she was wrong. No one could have done it better than Crumpet. She was just delighted over everything, and I had to hide my yawns often not to make her sorry; I couldn't stand more than one gallery a day, and one ruin thrown in, I really couldn't, but she loved it all. Do you know every now and then she used to burst out into a soft little laugh all to herself just because she was so happy, and I was so scrumptiously pleased to hear it, that I swallowed an extra gallery and did another old ruin without letting her see how sleepy it made me."

"But she was with you to do as you liked, I thought!"

"Oh, to see Crumpet laugh was what I really enjoyed! Do you remember what she used to be like, and now what with the Reverend, and Harry, and Toney, she is quite too happy, she says. But that isn't what I wanted to say, you'll see her to-morrow, and I've been here so little that it all brings back the past to-day. You understand?"

"Yes, I do; it seems ages since you were here, except on awfully short visits."

"Well, in Italy, there was a young man who made me an offer."

"What impudence!"

"Oh, no, and he didn't do it to me personally, because he told Crumpet I never gave him the tiniest chance, but he did it to her instead! Wasn't it funny, and she wept bitterly when she told me, she thought it was her fault."

"And what answer did you give him?" This time his companion smiled. "I begged Crumpet to tell him Pups had said that he pitied any man who married me, as I was such a dasher—you know—and that Aunt Dove said no one would ever propose to me except he wanted my money!"

The man at her side bit his lip and impatiently flipped his horse with his whip, holding him in tightly at the same time.

"Lady Dove said that!"

"Yes, and of course it's true! Aunt Dove does say the truth now and then. Don't you see yourself that it's true? I'm not like your cousin or Silvia Hales, or any of the nice girls about! Aunt Dove says Paris, Rome, Berlin, Dresden, and London, have all failed to make me an English young lady."

"A good thing too!"

"Oh, you say that because we are chums, but I know it's true. I can't feel different, though I've tried. Once a month I say 'make me a new heart' in the Psalms, you know, but nothing happens, so I suppose it isn't possible to alter some people, and I'm one of them."

"Nonsense!"

"No, it's true; Madame Lemoine, at Paris, used to say, 'Il faut toujours dire la vérité en famille,' but to other people it didn't matter. I told her it was all wrong, but she never could see it my way, so I gave it up, and she was an old dear in spite of her fibs!"

"She didn't convert you to fibbing, Toney!"

"There you see, I can't alter, but that wasn't what I was going to say. Do you know that last night, dear Uncle Evas—who is really quite cheerful now—and didn't he enjoy his times at Rome with me and Crumpet? for you know that with a lot of trouble and a little bribery I think, he got a month off last year."

They both laughed heartily, and slowly walked their horses on together. If a stranger had seen them he would have paused to look at this picture of the man and the maid.

"Well, what did your uncle say?"

"Oh, it was funny. He wanted to give me good advice about my coming of age! He cleared his throat and said, 'My dear Antonia, to-morrow you will be——' Then I laughed so much that he couldn't help joining in too, so I just gave him a hug till he begged for mercy."

Her companion also bowed his head over his horse's mane in happy laughter.

"I see, Toney, it's true you are incorrigible!"

"Yes, but really I don't believe you could have been so cruel as to let Uncle Dove give you a homily, now, could you? It would only have given him a sore throat for a month."

"I should like to have heard him all the same."

"You know he's just all right deep down in his heart, but he can't preach to save his life. However, when I released him—Aunt Dove had gone to bed, and he was so afraid of her hearing us—he showed me a long list of names, all men's names."

"Good heavens! What for?"

"I was a bit surprised too, and he laughed and said, 'Don't be afraid, they are not suitors,' then I scolded him and said he knew I never thought of such things. Well, then he explained that as I was coming into so much money—and do you know somehow it's a lot more than they expected—I must have a secretary, because it would take all my time and strength to open the letters. There's a lot come already, begging me to buy carpets and boots and smoked bacon, and heaps more things!"

"Never open letters, then you won't want a secretary," said Lewis decidedly.

"And I said, 'Oh, I can find a girl to do it,' but uncle intimated that there was more work than any poor girl could do, and that I must have a trained man—sort of lawyer—Mr. Staines insists on it, because he doesn't trust me with money—they none of them do—and fancy, dear old uncle had been spending hours collecting a lot of right-minded young men for me! Isn't it funny?"

"Very unnecessary; the London lawyers could do it all."

"No, they say they can't be bothered about begging letters, and so on; anyhow, I've got to have a secretary. I looked at the list and their testimonials and oh, do you know, everyone was perfect, and all their friends declared there was not a fault in them, so I told uncle it didn't matter which I took, and I suggested we should put their names on slips of paper and stick them up in his hat and pull one out!"

"Did he consent?"

"No! he was afraid I should tell of him I think, anyhow I had to choose, and there was one with an Australian uncle who recommended him highly. Out there we always recommended our relations, it wasn't neighbourly not to say all the good and leave out all the bad, so I told uncle I'd have him. Plantagenet Russell, that's his name. His father was a black sheep out home, but his uncle says he is most gentlemanly!"

"Toney, how ridiculous! Of course he's a plant too!"

"Gracious stars! what's the matter? I told you Uncle Dove had written about them all, he's all right and he's coming the day after to-morrow to see us, so as to avoid the coming of age party. You've promised to come, haven't you? I've been working so hard to get everything right for it."

"Of course, we are all coming."

"Heaps of Aunt Dove's friends are coming. We haven't had one refusal. Awfully kind of them, though of course I would much rather some of them didn't come, it's only to see if I've improved."

"Shall I stay away?"

"Why it would not be coming of age without you and Crumpet and Uncle Dove and Doctor Latham, and a few more—and Jim's coming to be my coachman and groom all in one, because Aunt Dove doesn't want to pay anything for me now I'm rich. Jim is just a faithful friend, and he's still engaged to his second young woman, the first was a bit fast so he gave her the slip one day."

"How do you know, Toney?"

"Jim and I have corresponded regularly. You see if you just leave go of these young fellows they soon forget their promises, besides I kept all his savings, and he's a nice little lump now in the Savings Bank. Oh, dear, it's tea-time and I must scoot! Mr. Staines is coming to explain things to me, and there's no end to do, but Crumpet is staying with me in our old rooms, top storey, and she'll help a bit. You should see the rooms, I spent all one quarter's pocket money on them, and now they're real palatial, at least Crumpet's is; I hate a lot of things, but I put in a big tub and—— Oh! gracious stars! I must go, so good-bye, dear old chum!"

Toney Whitburn held out a strong young hand and her companion grasped it. "Look here, Toney, if you are in trouble or want anything, anything, you know—you'll ask me to help you—promise?"

"Of course I will. Haven't I just now asked you about young men and offers, all because I thought you would know and wouldn't laugh."

"Yes, thank you—and I'll come to-morrow in spite of not being sure I shall be welcome." "There! you are telling fibs like Madame, but honest truth, I'd rather have you and Jim at my party, than any other men I know."

"Thanks awfully," and with a laugh the two separated. Toney galloped across the park, and the Squire was just going to jump the fence when he paused and looked back at her.

"Oh, Toney, Toney," he said to himself; "when will you understand, but even if you did I'll never let that horrid old cat say I wanted your money! Hang it all—and now there's a beastly young secretary coming to be always in her pocket. Sir Evas ought to know better!"