not to breathe a word of the mishap to Mummy, Daddy or Miss Watt, her
governess. The pledge having been given, Betty, the offending boots
discarded, fled to her own room by way of the back-door.

It was then twelve o'clock, and in the hour that remained before luncheon I
was fertile in excuses for Betty's absence from the scene; in fact, the
necessity for concealing the calamity quite marred what should have been a
time of well-earned relaxation.

At last we sat down to the midday meal, and the members of the house-party
began to relate their morning's adventures. Finally some thoughtless person
said, "Well, Betty, and what mischief have you been up to?"

Betty, quite recovered and with a radiant smile, replied, "Oh, Mr. --er and
I had a scrumptious time on the lake. We were sailors--just sailors--and
did all sorts of lovely things, didn't we, Mr. --er?"

I agreed, and Betty went on to her peroration:

"And at the very end Mr. --er was a tiger and I was a little small boy, and
he jumped on me out of the bushes and knocked me down in the mud" [O Betty!
O unjust sailor!], "and Miss Watt came in as I was changing my things. It
_was_ splendid, wasn't it--Reggie?"

_Per ardua ad astra._ I had won my promotion to the commissioned ranks of
the Christian names.

* * * * *

WIMMIN.