He made show of melancholy submission.

‘There, Skepsey, you have a good excuse, we are sure,’ Nataly said.

And women, when they are such ladies as these, are sent to prove to us that they can be a blessing; instead of the dreadful cry to Providence for the reason of the spread of the race of man by their means!  He declared his readiness, rejecting excuses, to state his case to them, but for his fear of having it interpreted as an appeal for their kind aid in obtaining his master’s forgiveness.  Mr. Durance had very considerately promised to intercede.  Skepsey dropped a hint or two of his naughty proceedings drily aware that their untutored antipathy to the manly art would not permit of warmth.

Nesta said:  ’Do you know, Skips, we saw a grand exhibition of fencing in
Paris.’

He sighed.  ’Ladies can look on at fencing! foils and masks!  Captain Dartrey Fenellan has shown me, and says, the French are our masters at it.’  He bowed constrainedly to mademoiselle.

‘You box, M. Skepsey!’ she said.

His melancholy increased:  ’Much discouragement from Government, Society!  If ladies . . . but I do not venture.  They are not against Games.  But these are not a protection . . . to them, when needed; to the country.  The country seems asleep to its position.  Mr. Durance has remarked on it:—­though I would not always quote Mr. Durance . . . indeed, he says, that England has invested an Old Maid’s All in the Millennium, and is ruined if it delays to come.  “Old Maid,” I do not see.  I do not—­if I may presume to speak of myself in the same breath with so clever a gentleman, agree with Mr. Durance in everything.  But the chest-measurement of recruits, the stature of the men enlisted, prove that we are losing the nursery of our soldiers.’

’We are taking them out of the nursery, Skips, if you ’re for quoting Captain Dartrey,’ said Nesta.  ’We’ll never haul down our flag, though, while we have him!’

‘Ah!  Captain Dartrey!’ Skepsey was refreshed by the invocation of the name.

A summons to his master’s presence cut short something he was beginning to say about Captain Dartrey.

CHAPTER XVI

ACCOUNTS FOR SKEPSEY’S MISCONDUCT, SHOWING HOW IT AFFECTED NATALY

His master opened on the bristling business.

’What’s this, of your name in the papers, your appearing before a magistrate, and a fine?  Tell the tale shortly.’

Skepsey fell upon his attitude for dialectical defence the modest form of the two hands at rolling play and the head deferentially sidecast.  But knowing that he had gratified his personal tastes in the act of serving his master’s interests, an interfusion of sentiments plunged him into self-consciousness; an unwonted state with him, clogging to a simple story.

’First, sir, I would beg you to pardon the printing of your name beside mine . . .’