ubject her own
will to that of Guy Seton. So the end of the discussion was that the
hunt was abandoned, and while the field went gaily chasing after a fresh
scent, these two riders turned their horses' heads and jogged slowly in
the direction of home.

Suddenly an overpowering feeling of shyness seized upon Rowena. Every
moment took her farther away from her companions; the country ahead
looked misty and solitary; Guy Seton's eyes were fixed upon her face
with an expression at once so wistful and so ardent that it seemed
impossible to meet it with her own. In her heart of hearts Rowena knew
perfectly well what that look meant; but with the curious inconsistency
of her sex the impulse was strong upon her to fly from what she had most
longed for and desired. Conversation was the best refuge for the
moment, and she plunged hastily into the first subject which presented
itself.

"I wonder if we shall find Dreda waiting at home! Poor Dreda, she was
so disgusted at having to follow on wheels. She refused point blank to
come, as she had not a mount; but at the last moment it seemed too dull
to stay at home all by herself. She is such a good horsewoman--far
better than I am. Perhaps next meet you will be very, very kind and
take her with you?"

Guy Seton's face suddenly assumed an expression of acute anxiety and
discomfort.

"Why should I take her? You are not--surely you are not _going away_?"

"Oh, no--oh, no; but it is Dreda's holiday. She would love it so! It
would be such a treat."

"And you? Does that mean that you _don't_ enjoy it? That you would
rather stay at home and let her come in your place?"

Rowena blushed.

"Of course it doesn't. I love it, too; but I wasn't thinking of myself.
Dreda thinks--she believes that you made some sort of promise that you
would give her a mount, and she is counting upon you to keep it. She
would be so disappointed--"

But Guy Seton had forgotten all about his lightly spoken words, and was
in no mood to be reminded.

"I think she must be mistaken, don't you know!" he protested easily.
"It's always the same thing with youngsters of that age. If one is
foolish enough to say a word, they leap to the conclusion that it is a
definite arrangement. I've learnt that with my own nephews and nieces.
I saw so very little of Miss Dreda before she went off to school that I
could hardly have had time to promise."

"I don't think it took very much time. So far as I unde