," resumed Kate, blushing, "I did not come here to make a
fuss, and be troublesome, but to prevent mischief, and clear up the
strangest misunderstanding between two worthy gentlemen, that are, both
of them, my good friends."

She paused, and there was a chilling silence: everybody felt she was
getting on ticklish ground now. She knew that well enough herself. But
she had a good rudder to steer by, called Mother-Wit.

Says she, with inimitable coolness,--

"Mr. Gaunt is an old friend of mine, and a little too sensitive where I
am concerned. Some chatterbox has been and told him Mr. Neville should
say I have changed horses with him; and on that the gossips put their
own construction. Mr. Gaunt hears all this, and applies insulting terms
to Mr. Neville. Nay, do not deny it, Mr. Gaunt, for I have it here in
your own handwriting.

"As for Mr. Neville, he merely defends his honor, and is little to
blame. But now I shall tell the true story about these horses, and make
you all ashamed of this sorry quarrel.

"Gentlemen, thus it is. A few days ago Mr. Gaunt bade me farewell, and
started for foreign parts. He had not been long gone, when word came
from Bolton that Mr. Charlton was no more. You know how sudden it was.
Consider, Gentlemen: him dead, and his heir riding off to the Continent
in ignorance. So I thought, 'Oh, what shall I do?' Just then Mr. Neville
visited me, and I told him: on that he offered me his piebald horse to
carry the news after Mr. Gaunt, because my gray was too tired: it was
the day we drew Yew-tree Brow, and crossed Harrowden Brook, you
know,"----

Griffith interrupted her.

"Stay a bit," said he: "this is news to me. You never told me he had
lent you the piebald nag to do me a good turn."

"Did I not?" said Kate, mighty innocently. "Well, but I tell you now.
Ask him: he cannot deny it. As for the rest, it was all done in a hurry:
Mr. Neville had no horse now to ride home with; he did me the justice to
think I should be very ill pleased, were he to trudge home afoot and
suffer for his courtesy; so he borrowed my gray to keep him out of the
mire; and, indeed, the ways were fouler than usual, with the rains. Was
there any ill in all this? HONI SOIT QUI MAL Y PENSE! say I."

The gentlemen all sided loudly with her on this appeal,--except Neville,
who held his tongue, and smiled at her plausibility, and Griffith, who
hung his head at her siding with Neville.

At last he spoke, and said, sorrowfull