'They are safe to eat grapes in the shape of ants and flies
for the term of their natural lives,' said Rollo contentedly.
He did not care for Mr. Morton. Indeed he looked as if it
would be difficult to disturb him, more than superficially,
about anything. And that, not for want of elements of
disturbance, but because of other elements of character, which
in their strength slumbered, and perhaps were scarcely self-
conscious. The last words moreover were a shield over Wych
Hazel's possible shyness. However it was, Mr. Falkirk looked
across from the orchids to him, and considered him somewhat
fixedly.

'If we are not to get them out of the basket--but that would be
very like a fairy tale--will you see to the matter of the
horses, Rollo?'

'If Miss Kennedy commands me,' he said, with a smile. But Miss
Kennedy was in a mood to keep her distance.

'I have told Mr. Falkirk,' she said. And now came up the
question of her engagement at Moscheloo; if she was going, she
ought to be off, and it appeared that there was no vehicle on
the place in fit order to take her. Mr. Falkirk proposed to
send to Crocus.

'Too far,' said Rollo. 'Suppose you put yourself in the
saddle, and let me convoy you over to Moscheloo? It's good for
a ride, this morning.'

'I thought you wanted Vixen?' said the girl, turning towards
him.

'_You_ don't.'

'Do you know what I do want, as well as what I do not, Mr.
Rollo?'

'The trouble is, it is not to be had to-day. But there is the
grey cob. Always take the best there is to be had. Put on your
habit, and I'll give you a very decent canter across the
country to Moscheloo. Come!' he said, with a look compounded
of sweetness and raillery. But raillery from Rollo's eyes was
a little keen.

She laughed with a pretty acknowledgment of the raillery, but
a first did not answer. It was a great temptation! The
breakfast had left her excited and restless, and to get away
from it all--to have a canter in the fresh wind! Then, she
hated the very name of the grey cob!--She looked over to Mr.
Falkirk. He was looking at her earnestly, but he did not
speak.

'Shall I do that, sir?'

'If you go, you cannot do better,' he said, in a tone which
certainly signified a want of satisfaction at something; but
that was not unprecedented in their discussions.

'But my habit!--O well, I can manage that. Then will you be
ready very soon, Mr. Rollo?'

Dane was ready, there was no doubt of that; but Mr. Falki