A race with a groom! "Your uncle must give you good mounts," says Mr.Woodleigh.
"It is all he _does_ give me," says the girl, with a pout.

"Yes; I may ride, but that is all.

I never _see_ anybody--there is nobody to see; my uncle knows nobody." Lady Rylton makes an effort.

It is growing _too_ dreadful.

She turns to Mrs.Chichester.
"Why don't you play ?" asks she.
"Tennis?
I hate it; it destroys one's clothes so," says Mrs.
Chichester.