The flush that had swept across the school withered to a dry recollection, except when on one of their Sunday afternoons she fanned the desert.

Lord Ormont became the subject of inquiry and conversation; and for his own sake--not altogether to gratify Matey.

The Saturday autumn evening's walk home, after the race out to tea at a distant village, too late in the year for cricket, too early for regular football, suited Matey, going at long strides, for the story of his hero's adventures; and it was nicer than talk about girls, and puzzling.

Here lay a clear field; for he had the right to speak of a cavalry officer: his father died of wounds in the service, and Matey naturally intended to join the Dragoons; if he could get enough money to pay for mess, he said, laughing.

Lord Ormont was his pattern of a warrior.