The Major was not good at archery. He was no doubt an excellent Deputy Inspector-General of Cavalry; but if bows and arrows had still been the weapons used in any part of the British army, he would not, without further instruction, have been qualified to inspect that branch. Georgiana Wanless, on the other hand, was a proficient. Such shooting as she made was marvellous to look at. And she was a very image of Diana, as with her beautiful figure and regular features, dressed up to the work, she stood with her bow raised in her hand and let twang the arrows. The circle immediately outside the bull’s-eye was the farthest from the mark she ever touched. But good as she was and bad as was the Major, nevertheless they were appointed always to shoot together. After a world of failures the Major would shoot no more,—but not the less did he go backwards and forwards with Georgiana when she changed from one end to the other, and found himself absolutely appointed to that task. It grew upon him during the whole day that this second Miss Wanless was supposed to be his own,—almost as much as was the elder the property of Mr. Cobble. Other young men would do no more than speak to her. And when once, after the great lunch in the tent, Lady Wanless came and put her hand affectionately upon his arm, and whispered some word into his ear in the presence of all the assembled guests, he knew that the entire county had recognised him as caught.
There was old Lady Deepbell there. How it was that towards the end of the day’s delights Lady Deepbell got hold of him he never knew. Lady Deepbell had not been introduced to him, and yet she got hold of him. “Major Rossiter, you are the luckiest man of the day,” she said to him.
“Pretty well,” said he, affecting to laugh; “but why so?”
“She is the handsomest young woman out. There hasn’t been one in London this season with such a figure.”
“You are altogether wrong in your surmise, Lady Deepbell.”
“No, no; I am right enough. I see it all. Of course the poor girl won’t have any money; but then how nice it is when a gentleman like you is able to dispense with that. Perhaps they do take after their father a little, and he certainly is not bright; but upon my word, I think a girl is all the better for that. What’s the good of having such a lot of talkee-talkee?”
“Lady Deepbell, you are alluding to a young lady without the slightest warrant,” said the Major.
“Warrant enough;—warrant enough,” said the old woman, toddling off.
Then young Cobble came to him, and talked to him as though he were a brother of the house. Young Cobble was an honest fellow, and quite in earnest in his matrimonial intentions. “We shall be delighted if you’ll come to us on the first,” said Cobble. The first of course meant the first of September. “We ain’t so badly off just for a week’s shooting. Sophia is to be there, and we’ll get Georgiana too.”
The Major was fond of shooting, and would have been glad to accept the offer; but it was out of the question that he should allow himself to be taken in at Cobble Hall under a false pretext. And was it not incumbent on him to make this young man understand that he had no pretensions whatever to the hand of the second Miss Wanless? “You are very good,” said he.