k of the water, leaping lightly from stone to
stone, and inciting the hound to business.

'Let him alone, can't you?' roared Maulevrier; 'leave him in peace till
he's wanted. If you disturb him now he'll desert his holt, and we may
have a blank day. The hounds are to be out to-morrow.'

'I may go with you?' asked Mary, eagerly.

'Well, yes, I suppose you'll want to be in it.' Molly and her brother
went on an exploring ramble along the edge of the water towards
Ambleside, leaving John Hammond in Lesbia's company, but closely guarded
by Miss Mueller. These three went to look at Nab Cottage, where poor
Hartley Coleridge ended his brief and clouded days; and they had gone
some way upon their homeward walk before they were rejoined by
Maulevrier and Mary, the damsel's kilted skirt considerably the worse
for mud and mire.

'What would grandmother say if she were to see you!' exclaimed Lesbia,
looking contemptuously at the muddy petticoat.

'I am not going to let her see me, so she will say nothing,' cried Mary,
and then she called to the dogs, 'Ammon, Agag, Angelina;' and the three
fox terriers flew along the road, falling over themselves in the
swiftness of their flight, darting, and leaping, and scrambling over
each other, and offering the spectators the most intense example of
joyous animal life.

The colley was far up on the hill-side, and the otter-hound was still
hunting the water, but the terriers never went out of Mary's sight. They
looked to her to take the initiative in all their sports.

They were back at Fellside in time for a very late tea. Lady Maulevrier
was waiting for them in the drawing-room.

'Oh, grandmother, why did you not take your tea!' exclaimed Lesbia,
looking really distressed. 'It is six o'clock.'

'I am used to have you at home to hand me my cup,' replied the dowager,
with a touch of reproachfulness.

'I am so sorry,' said Lesbia, sitting down before the tea-table, and
beginning her accustomed duty. 'Indeed, dear grandmother, I had no idea
it was so late; but it was such a lovely afternoon, and Mr. Hammond is
so interested in everything connected with Wordsworth--'

She was looking her loveliest at this moment, all that was softest in
her nature called forth by her desire to please her grandmother, whom
she really loved. She hung over Lady Maulevrier's chair, attending to
her small wants, and seeming scarcely to remember the existence of
anyone else. In this phase of her character she