Why, Gascoigne!"-- the rector was just then crossing at a little distance with Gwendolen on his arm, and turned in compliance with the call--"this is a little too bad; you not only beat us yourself, but you bring up your niece to beat all the archeresses." "It _is_ rather scandalous in her to get the better of elder members," said Mr.Gascoigne, with much inward satisfaction curling his short upper lip.

"But it is not my doing, my lord.

I only meant her to make a tolerable figure, without surpassing any one." "It is not my fault, either," said Gwendolen, with pretty archness.

"If I am to aim, I can't help hitting." "Ay, ay, that may be a fatal business for some people," said Lord Brackenshaw, good-humoredly; then taking out his watch and looking at Mrs.Arrowpoint again--"The time's getting on, as you say.

But Grandcourt is always late.