Indeed that little lawn at Myrtlewood was a battle-field, of which

Alison used to carry her sister amusing and characteristic sketches. The

two leading players were Miss Keith and Mr. Touchett, who alone had

any idea of tactics; but what she did by intuition, sleight of hand or

experience, he effected by calculation and generalship, and even when

Conrade claimed the command of his own side, the suggestions of the

curate really guided the party. Conrade was a sort of Murat on

the croquet field, bold, dashing, often making wonderful hits, but

uncertain, and only gradually learning to act in combination. Alison was

a sure-handed, skilful hitter, but did not aspire to leadership. Mamma

tried to do whatever her boys commanded, and often did it by a sort of

dainty dexterity, when her exultation, was a very pretty sight, nor was

Grace's lady-like skill contemptible, but having Francis as an ally was

like giving a castle; and he was always placed on the other side from

Conrade, as it was quite certain that he would do the very reverse of

whatever his brother advised. Now and then invitations were given for

Rose Williams to join the game, but her aunts never accepted them.

Ermine had long ago made up her mind against intimacies between her

niece and any pupils of Alison's, sure that though starts of pleasure

might result, they would be at the cost of ruffling, and, perhaps,

perturbing the child's even stream of happiness--even girl-friendships

might have been of doubtful effect where circumstances were so unequal;

but Lady Temple's household of boys appeared to Ermine by no means

a desirable sphere for her child to be either teased or courted

in. Violetta, Colinette, and Augustus were safer comrades, and Rose

continued to find them sufficient, varied with the rare delight of now

and then sharing her aunt's drive, and brightened by many a kind message

in Colonel Keith's letters to her aunt, nay, occasionally a small letter

to herself, or an enclosure of some pretty photograph for her much-loved

scrap book, or some article for Colinette's use, sometimes even a new

book! She was never forgotten in his letters, and Ermine smiled her

strange pensive smile of amusement at his wooing of the unconscious

Rose.




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