We have all seen that maneuver brilliantly and patiently executed.

But when you are staying at a country house with any man of average pertinacity, I make bold to say that nothing short of taking to bed can be permanently relied upon.

If this is the case with the ordinary man, how much more does it hold good when the assailant is one like Haddington--a man of considerable address, unbounded persistence, and limitless complacency?
There came a time when Claudia's forced marches failed her, and she had to turn and give battle.

When the moment came she was prepared with an audacious plan of campaign.
She had walked down to the village one morning, attended by Haddington and protected by Bob, to buy for Mrs.Lane a fresh supply of worsted wool, a commodity apparently necessary to sustain that lady's life, and was returning at peace, when Bob suddenly exclaimed: "By Jove! Tobacco! Wait for me!" and, turning, fled back whence he came, at full speed.
Claudia made an attempt at following him, but the weather was hot and the road dusty, and, confronted with the alternative of a _tete-a-tete_ and a damaged personal appearance, she reluctantly chose the former.
Haddington did not let the grass grow under his feet.

"Well," he said, "it won't be unpleasant to rest a little while, will it?
Here's a dry bank." Claudia never wasted time in dodging the inevitable.