the world that these cousins should be fond of each
other, and engaged to be married. Vixen wondered that the thing had
never occurred to her as inevitable--that it should have come upon her
as a blow at the last.

"I think Rorie ought to have told me," she said to herself. "He is like
my brother; and a brother would not hide his love affairs from his
sister. It was rather mean of Rorie."

The business of the day began presently. Neither Vixen nor the Squire
dismounted. They had breakfasted at home; and Vixen, who did not care
much for Lady Jane Vawdrey, was glad to escape with no further
communication than a smile and a bow. At a quarter-past one they were
all riding away towards the Forest, and presently the serious business
began.

Vixen and her father were riding side by side.

"You are so pale, papa. Is your head bad again to-day?"

"Yes, my dear. I'm afraid I've started a chronic headache. But the
fresh air will blow it away presently, I daresay. You're not looking
over-well yourself, Vixen. What have you done with your roses?"

"I--I--don't care much about hunting to-day, papa," said Violet, sudden
tears rushing into her eyes. "Shall we go home together? You're not
well, and I'm not enjoying myself. Nobody wants us, either; so why
should we stay?"

Rorie was a little way behind them, taking care of Lady Mabel, whose
slim-legged chestnut went through as many manoeuvres as if he had been
doing the manege business in a circus, and got over the ground very
slowly.

"Nonsense, child! Go back! I should think not! Jack Purdy may do all
the work, but people like to see me to the fore. We shall find down in
Dingley Bottom, I daresay, and get a capital run across the hills to
Beaulieu."

They found just as the Squire had anticipated, and after that there was
a hard run for the next hour and a quarter. Roderick was at the heel of
the hunt all the time, opening gates, and keeping his cousin out of
bogs and dangers of all kinds. They killed at last on a wild bit of
common near Beaulieu, and there were only a few in at the death,
amongst them Vixen on her fast young bay, flushed with excitement and
triumph by this time, and forgetting all her troubles in the delight of
winning one of the pads. Mrs Millington, the famous huntress from the
shires, was there to claim the brush.

"How tired you look, papa," said Vixen, as they rode quietly homewards.

"A little done up, my dear, but a good dinner will set me all ri