ll hunt, of course,
Mabel?"

"I don't know. I don't shine in the field, as Miss Tempest does."

"Oh, but you must come, Mab. The Duke will find you a safe mount."

"She has a hunter I bred on purpose for her," said the Duke; "but
she'll never be such a horsewoman as her mother."

"She looks lovely on Mazeppa," said Rorie; "and she must come to my
hunting breakfast."

"Of course, Rorie, if you wish I shall come."

Rorie stayed to luncheon, and then went back to Briarwood to mount his
horse to ride to the Abbey House.

The afternoon was drawing in when Rorie rode up to the old Tudor
porch--a soft, sunless, gray afternoon. The door stood open, and he saw
the glow of the logs on the wide hearth, and the Squire's stalwart
figure sitting in the great arm-chair, leaning forward with a newspaper
across his knee, and Vixen on a stool at his feet, the dogs grouped
about them.

"Shall I send my horse round to the stables, Squire?" asked Rorie.

"Do, my lad," answered Mr. Tempest, ringing the bell, at which summons
a man appeared and took charge of Roderick's big chestnut.

"Been hunting to-day, Squire?" asked Rorie, when he had shaken hands
with Mr. Tempest and his daughter, and seated himself on the opposite
side of the hearth.

"No," answered the Squire, in a voice that had a duller sound than
usual. "We had the hounds out this morning at Hilberry Green, and there
was a good muster, Jack Purdy says; but I felt out of sorts, and
neither Vixen nor I went. It was a loss for Vixen, poor little girl."

"It was a grief to see you ill, papa," said Violet, nestling closer to
him.

She had hardly taken any notice of Roderick to-day, shaking
hands with him in an absent-minded way, evidently full of anxiety about
her father. She was very pale, and looked older and more womanly than
when he saw her yesterday, Roderick thought.

"I'm not ill, my dear," said the Squire, "only a little muddled and
queer in my head; been riding too hard lately, perhaps. I don't get
lighter, you know, Rorie, and a quick run shakes me more than it used.
Old Martin, our family doctor, has been against my hunting for a long
time; but I should like to know what kind of life men of my age would
lead if they listened to the doctors. They wouldn't let us have a
decent dinner."

"I'm so sorry!" said Rorie. "I came to ask you a favour, and now I feel
as it I hardly ought to say anything about it."

And then Roderick proceeded to tell the Squire his