rth and are busy mounting their horses in front of
the house.

Off goes the master, well in front, at a sharp trot, towards the woods on
the further slope of the hill, and off go the hounds and the whips, and
the riders, in a long and gay procession after him, down the wide avenue.

"Promise me you will not stop out long, Vera," says Sir John to her as
they go side by side down the drive. "You look white and tired as it is.
Have you got a headache?"

"Yes, a little," confesses Vera, with a blush. "I did not sleep well."

"This sitting up late night after night is not good for you," says her
lover, anxiously; "and there is the ball to-morrow night."

"Yes; and I want to look my best for your mother," she said, smiling. "I
will take care of myself, John; I will go home early in time for lunch."

"You are always so ready to do what I ask you. Oh, Vera, how good you
are! how little I deserve such a treasure!"

"Don't," she answers, almost sharply, whilst an expression of pain
contracts her brow for an instant. "Don't say such things to me, John;
don't call me good."

John Kynaston looks at her fondly. "I will not call you anything you
don't wish," he says, gently, "but I am free to think it, Vera!"

The first covert is successfully drawn without much delay. A fox is
found, and breaks away across the open, and a short but sharp burst of
fifteen or twenty minutes follows. The field is an unusually large one,
and there are many out who are not in it at all. Beatrice, however, is
well up, and so is Herbert Pryme, who is not likely to be far from her
side. Close behind them follows Sir John Kynaston, and Mrs. Romer, who is
well mounted upon one of Edwin Miller's horses, keeps well up with the
rest.

Vera never quite knew how it was that somehow or other she got thrown out
of that short but exciting run. She was on the wrong side of the covert
to begin with; several men were near her, but they were all strangers,
and at the time "Gone away!" was shouted, there was no one to tell her
which way to take. Two men took the left side of the copse, three others
turned to the right. Vera followed the latter, and found that the hounds
must have gone in the opposite direction, for when she got round the wood
not a trace of them was to be seen.

She did not know the country well, and she hardly knew which way to turn.
It seemed to her, however, that by striking across a small field to the
left of her she would cut off a corner,