Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 128.djvu/747

Rh knew, they might manage to cut in to the run again, and accordingly they set off, following the example of the solitary horseman who had refused at first, along the line of the brook, till they came to a bridge nearly half a mile higher up; and thence they got into a lane and made for some cross-roads where Miss Cathy said they would be sure to get news. But when this point was reached no one there had seen the hounds. Thus the cast had proved a failure. In fact, Miss Cathy, although a huntress, had not really a much better eye for country than young ladies usually possess; and Yorke knew all the time they must be taking a bad line, but was too polite to say so. There was now nothing for it but to turn their horses' heads towards home, now about twelve miles off.

The young lady was full of regrets for having lost Yorke his run, and reproaches of herself for her want of nerve; but something in her manner caused Yorke to ask himself suddenly whether this refusal of the brook was not a mere artifice. True, he had no reason to be vain of his success with women; still Mr. Peevor had been so extraordinarily outspoken in his hints the previous evening, that it really seemed as if he wanted to give him one of his daughters on any terms; and if so, what more natural than that the bold horsewoman should be told off for the soldier? And as this suspicion crossed his mind, Yorke became silent and reserved. But whatever might have been her designs, no one could be less of a coquette in her manner than the young lady; and as they plodded homeward, occasionally changing their walk for a slow trot, he learned a good deal more about the family from her unaffected conversation than her father had told him already. Mr. Peevor, it appeared, bought "The Beeches" about three years ago; before that he had a house in Kent, which he had purchased after selling a house at Harrow Weald. That was something like a hunting-country, observed Miss Cathy with enthusiasm, but he was too young to ride to hounds in those days. Yorke inferred from this account that Mr. Peevor must have business in London which involved his living in the neighbourhood; and indeed the young lady implied as much, although she said her father now seldom went up to town. This comfortable kind of life then had lasted for some years; and this easy buying and selling of houses, although involving a nomad sort of life, indicated the reckless mercantile adventurer as little as did Mr. Peevor's own fussy, kindly manner, and his fidgetiness about trifles. In fact, this frequent change of residence was perhaps another manifestation of the fidgets. The financial-impostor hypothesis might evidently be discarded. Still, what was the mysterious cause for this apparent social ostracism?

It was nearly four o'clock before they reached home. On riding up to the front door, Yorke was about to jump off and ring the bell, when Miss Cathy with some hesitation asked if he would mind coming round to the stables, the footman might perhaps not like to hold the horses; and accordingly they turned off in that direction. As they passed along the side of the house, the sound of childish laughter could be heard from the upper windows. "Lucy is playing with the children in the nursery," said Miss Cathy; "it is just their tea-time." Dismounting at the stables, they entered the house by the garden door, and finding no one in the hall, the young lady proposed that they should go to the dining-room where luncheon would be waiting for them; but Yorke, observing that it was too late for that meal, asked if they might not join the children at tea; and, following his companion up-stairs they surprised Miss Lucy in the children's play-room (a roomy and very comfortable apartment), giving Lottie a ride on her back, her dishevelled locks doing duty as reins, while Minnie, whip in hand, was driving them round the room. The young lady displayed some confusion at being thus discovered, and looked very pretty in her blushes; while the gentleman, noticing with satisfaction that the long tresses falling over her shoulders derived no aid from artificial adjuncts, thought her toilet had never appeared more becoming. Such an unfortunate ending they had had to a promising day, explained Miss Cathy in answer to her sister's inquiries about the run; Colonel Yorke's sport had been quite spoilt by her timidity; she was so vexed with herself about it; and Yorke, by way of consolation under her evident distress, declared they had had a capital run as it was, and that if they had gone on to the finish they might have had another half-dozen miles further to ride home. "I am sure I can feel for you, Cathy," said her sister. "How you can ride as you do is a perfect wonder. I should throw myself off in an agony of fright as soon as I came to the first hedge." Then the tea was brought, and Miss Lucy having first retired to make her hair neat, they sat down to do

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