r me and my horse."
Then, seeing him waver, this virago faltered out, "And I have been so
tried to-day, first by one, then by another, surely _you_ might have
some pity on me. Oh! oh! oh! oh!"

"Nay, nay," cried Griffith, all in a flutter, "I'll go without more
words; as I am a gentleman, I will sleep at Bolton this night, and will
do my duty to the dead and the living. Don't you cry, sweetest; I give
in. I find I have no will but yours."

The next moment they were cantering side by side, and never drew rein
till they reached the cross-roads.

"Now tell me one thing," stammered Griffith, with a most ghastly attempt
at cheerful indifference. "How--do you--happen to be--on George
Neville's horse?"

Kate had been expecting this question for some time; yet she colored
high when it did come. However, she had her answer pat. The horse was in
the stable-yard, and fresh; her own was tired.

"What was I to do, Griffith? And now," added she, hastily, "the sun will
soon set, and the roads are bad; be careful. I wish I could ask you to
sleep at our house; but--there are reasons"--

She hesitated; she could not well tell him George Neville was to dine
and sleep there.

Griffith assured her there was no danger; his mare knew every foot of
the way.

They parted: Griffith rode to Bolton, and Kate rode home.

It was past dinner-time. She ran up stairs, and hurried on her best gown
and her diamond comb. For she began to quake now at the prank she had
played with her guest's horse; and Nature taught her that the best way
to soften censure is--to be beautiful.

"On pardonne tout aux belles."

And certainly she was passing fair, and queenly with her diamond comb.

She came down stairs and was received by her father. He grumbled at
being kept waiting for dinner.

Kate easily appeased the good-natured Squire, and then asked what had
become of Mr. Neville.

"Oh, he is gone long ago! Remembered, all of a sudden, he had promised
to dine with a neighbor."

Kate shook her head skeptically, but said nothing. But a good minute
after, she inquired,--

"How did he go? on foot?"

The Squire did not know.

After dinner old Joe sought an interview, and was admitted into the
dining-room.

"Be it all right about the gray horse, Master?"

"What of him?" asked Kate.

"He be gone to Neville Court, Mistress. But I suppose" (with a horrid
leer) "it is all right. Muster Neville told me all about it. He said,
says he,--

"'Some