wild rose, eyes deeply, darkly blue, lips curving into the sweetest
and shyest of smiles.

"Thank you so much. I should love to go. I should not be at all
afraid."

"That's settled, then!" cried Mr Seton, and breathed a sigh of relief.
The air of restraint which he had worn since entering the room gave
place to his usual genial, happy manner. He turned to Dreda, questioned
her about her work and games, joked and teased, recalled his own
experiences, was everything that was kind and friendly, but never a word
did he say about the promised "mount"--not a hint that she also might
like to attend the meet! Verily it was a world of grief and
disappointment.

Gurth opined that it was a "beastly fag" having no horses, but saw no
reason why the younger members of the party should not follow on
bicycles. Dreda protested haughtily that if she could not go properly
she would not go at all; but when the day of the meet arrived and she
saw the little party complacently preparing to start, pride gave way
before the thought of a long, dull day alone; she rushed to get ready,
and pedalled down the drive looking her old complacent self.

Rowena led the cavalcade on Mr Seton's brown hunter, with her fair
locks coiled tightly at the back and her hat pressed down on her
forehead. She was not quite so pretty, perhaps, as in ordinary attire,
but she looked delightfully trim and business-like, and her young
brothers and sisters were proud of her and made favourable comparisons
between her and the other lady riders assembled in the square. It was a
picturesque sight to see the motley collection of vehicles drawn up by
the kerbstones, the riders pacing to and fro, greeting fresh arrivals,
who kept trotting in from every direction, the pink coats of the men
making welcome touches of colour, and finally the appearance of the
hounds themselves, preceded by the huntsmen in their velvet caps and
smart white breeches.

A long table was laid out in front of the village inn, on which were set
refreshments for those who had driven from a distance. The Saxon
quartette strolled up and down, wheeling their bicycles as they went,
exchanging greetings with acquaintances, and quizzing the peculiarities
of strangers, after the merciless fashion of youth. It was just as they
reached the farthest corner of the square, and were about to turn back,
that Dreda's glance came into contact with a pair of eyes fixed upon her
with a coldly antagonistic gaz