"So shall I," declares Guy, "to the stables. Taffy, will you come with me?"
"As nobody wants me," says Lilian, "I shall make a point of wanting somebody. Archie, come and have a game of billiards with me before dinner."
"My dear Guy, does it not still rain very hard?" protests Florence, anxiously.
"Very," laughing.
"You will get wet," with increasing anxiety, and a tender glance cleverly directed.
"Wet! he will get drenched," exclaims Cyril; "he will probably get his death of cold, and die of inflammation of the lungs. It is horrible to think of it! Guy, be warned; accept Florence's invitation to stay here with her, and be happy and dry. As sure as you are out to-day, you may prepare to shed this mortal coil."
"Forgive me, Florence, I must go or suffocate," says Guy, refusing to be warned, or to accept Miss Beauchamp's delicate hint: and together he and Musgrave sally forth to inspect the stables, while Lilian and Archibald retire to the billiard-room.
When they have played for some time, and Archibald has meanly allowed Lilian to win all the games under the mistaken impression that he is thereby cajoling her into staying with him longer than she otherwise might have done, she suddenly destroys the illusion by throwing down her cue impatiently, and saying, with a delicious little pout:
"I hate playing with people who know nothing about the game! there is no excitement in it. I remark when I play with you I always win. You're a regular muff at billiards, Archie; that's what you are."
This is a severe blow to Archie's pride, who is a first-class hand at billiards; but he grins and bears it.