!« Maria repeated, and the Countess, agreeing
with her scorn as she did, could have killed her. At least she would have liked
to run a bodkin into her, and make her scream. In her position she could not
always be Charity itself: nor is this the required character for a high-born
dame: so she rarely affected it.
    »Order a fly: discover the direction Mr. Harrington has taken; spare me
further remarks,« she said; and Maria humbly flitted from her presence.
    When she was gone, the Countess covered her face with her hands. »Even this
creature would despise us!« she exclaimed.
    The young lady encountered by Mr. Raikes on the road to Fallowfield, was
wrong in saying that Beckley would be seen out before the shades of evening
caught up the ball. Not one, but two men of Beckley - the last two - carried out
their bats, cheered handsomely by both parties. The wickets pitched in the
morning, they carried them in again, and plaudits renewed proved that their fame
had not slumbered. To stand before a field, thoroughly aware that every
successful stroke you make is adding to the hoards of applause in store for you
- is a joy to your friends, an exasperation to your foes; - I call this an
exciting situation, and one as proud as a man may desire. Then, again, the two
last men of an eleven are twins: they hold one life between them; so that he who
dies extinguishes the other. Your faculties are stirred to their depths. You
become engaged in the noblest of rivalries: in defending your own, you fight for
your comrade's existence. You are assured that the dread of shame, if not
emulation, is making him equally wary and alert.
    Behold, then, the two bold men of Beckley fighting to preserve one life.
Under the shadow of the downs they stand, beneath a glorious day, and before a
gallant company. For there are ladies in carriages here, there are cavaliers;
good county names may be pointed out. The sons of first-rate families are in the
two elevens, mingled with the yeomen and whoever can best do the business.
Fallowfield and Beckley, without regard to rank, have drawn upon their muscle
and science. One of the bold men of Beckley at the wickets is Nick Frim, son of
the gamekeeper at Beckley Court; the other is young Tom Copping, son of Squire
Copping, of Dox Hall, in the parish of Beckley. Last year, you must know,
Fallowfield beat.
