h as a matter of course,
things fell into train, for Eleanor often to do anything to alter the
train. But she was determined.

"Eleanor, do you know everybody is waiting?" Mrs. Powle exclaimed one
morning bursting into Eleanor's room. "There's the whole riding
party--and you are not ready!"

"No, mamma. I am not going."

"Not going! Just put on your riding-habit as quick as you can--Julia,
get her hat!--you said you would go, and I have no notion of
disappointing people like that. Get yourself ready immediately--do you
hear me?"

"But, mamma--"

"Put on your habit!--then talk if you like. It's all nonsense. What are
you doing? studying? Nonsense! there's time enough for studying when
you are at home. Now be quick!"

"But, mamma--"

"Well? Put your hair lower, Eleanor; that will not do."

"Mamma, isn't Mr. Carlisle there?"

"Mr. Carlisle? What if he is? I hope he is. You are well in that hat,
Eleanor."

"Mamma, if Mr. Carlisle is there,--"

"Hold your tongue, Eleanor!--take your whip and go. They are all
waiting. You may talk to me when you come back, but now you must go. I
should think Mr. Carlisle would like to be of the party, for there
isn't such another figure on the ride. Now kiss me and go. You are a
good girl."

Mrs. Powle said it with some feeling. She had never found Eleanor so
obediently tractable as since her return; she had never got from her
such ready and willing cooperation, even in matters that her mother
knew were not after Eleanor's heart, as now when her heart was less in
them than ever. And at this moment she was gratified by the quiet grave
obedience rendered her, in doing what she saw plainly enough Eleanor
did not like to do. She followed her daughter down stairs with a proud
heart.

It happened again, as it was always happening, that Mr. Carlisle was
Eleanor's special attendant. Eleanor meditated possible ways of
hindering this in future; but for the present there was no remedy. Mr.
Carlisle put her on her horse; it was not till she was taking the reins
in her left hand that something struck her with a sense of familiarity.

"What horse is this?" she asked.

"No other than your old friend and servant--I hope you have not
forgotten her. She has not forgotten you."

Eleanor perceived that. As surely as it was Black Maggie, Maggie knew
her; and displeased though Eleanor was with the master, she could not
forbear a little caress of recognition to the beautiful creature he had