hed her drive away. There was the same trap waiting,
the same diminutive-looking groom standing at the horse's head. He
helped her in, a trifle more tenderly, perhaps, than was absolutely
necessary. Then he mounted to the seat beside her, and away they drove,
the groom behind hanging on as by his eyelids.

All during those twelve miles they talked together of anything and
everything, save on the one subject which was uppermost in their minds.
Religiously they abstained from discussing themselves, and yet they knew
that sooner or later that subject would have to be broached.
Instinctively, however, they both avoided it, as if in their hearts
they knew that from it no good could come.

At Farmingdale, as they drove into the stable-yard behind the little
country tavern, all thoughts but of the hunt were banished, at least for
the moment. They were both too keen about the sport not to feel their
pulses quicken at the familiar scene and sounds.

All the hunters had been sent over in the morning, and stood ready in
the adjoining stalls and sheds; grooms were taking off and folding
blankets, tightening girths and straps preparatory to the start. In the
middle of the stable-yard, O'Rourke, the first whip, was struggling with
all his might and main to get into his pink coat, which had grown a
trifle tight, and was giving the finishing touches to his toilet, gazing
at himself in a broken piece of looking-glass that a friendly groom was
patiently holding up before him.

Gentlemen and grooms were going and coming, giving and receiving their
final instructions. The baying of the hounds, and the dashes here and
there of color from pink coats, all went to make up a most charming and
exhilarating picture.

Into the midst of this noise and bustle came Miss Easton and Jack. The
groom scrambled down from his perch, and the two got out. In an instant
she was surrounded by three or four men, all talking at the same time
and upon the same subject: "Was not the day superb?" "Did she know which
way the hounds were to run?" "Was she going to ride Midnight?" "What a
beauty he was!" and a great deal more of the same kind.

She was gracious to all, and when at last Jack returned, followed by a
groom leading her horse, not one man of that group but felt that Miss
Easton was simply charming, and any one who married her was indeed in
luck.

Jack stood aside to let young Martin give her a lift into the saddle,
and watched him somewhat wistfull