orn and me. Once or twice I caught her
covert glance on me. But I felt, and strongly, that there could be no
friendship between us now, and I did not care to dissimulate merely for
the sake of appearances. Besides, I was not a little put out over the
senseless piece of gossip which had gone abroad concerning me.

It had been arranged as part of the day's programme that Mr. Cooke was to
drive those who wished to go over the Rise in his new brake. But the
table was not graced by our host's presence, Mrs. Cooke apologizing for
him, explaining that he had disappeared quite mysteriously. It turned
out that he and the judge had been served with luncheon in the Ethiopian
card-room, and neither threats nor fair words could draw him away. The
judge had not held such cards for years, and it was in vain that I talked
to him of consequences. The Ten decided to remain and watch a game which
was pronounced little short of phenomenal, and my client gave orders for
the smaller brake and requested the Celebrity to drive. And this he was
nothing loth to do. For the edification as well as the assurance of the
party Mr. Allen explained, while we were waiting under the porte cochere,
how he had driven the Windsor coach down Piccadilly at the height of the
season, with a certain member of Parliament and noted whip on the box
seat.

And, to do him justice, he could drive. He won the instant respect of
Mr. Cooke's coachman by his manner of taking up the lines, and clinched
it when he dropped a careless remark concerning the off wheeler. And
after the critical inspection of the horses which is proper he climbed up
on the box. There was much hesitation among the ladies as to who should
take the seat of honor: Mrs. Cooke declining, it was pressed upon Miss
Thorn. But she, somewhat to my surprise, declined also, and it was
finally filled by a young woman from Asquith.

As we drove off I found myself alone with Mrs. Cooke's niece on the seat
behind.

The day was cool and snappy for August, and the Rise all green with a
lavish nature. Now we, plunged into a deep shade with the boughs lacing
each other overhead, and crossed dainty, rustic bridges over the cold
trout-streams, the boards giving back the clatter of our horses' feet: or
anon we shot into a clearing, with a colored glimpse of the lake and its
curving shore far below us. I had always loved that piece of country
since the first look I had of it from the Asquith road, and the sight of
it