listen to the band playing, and look at the beautiful villas that border the water, watch the invalids taking their constitutionals, and see the brightly-painted boats bobbing over the small waves.  While waiting for the horses, Fred made me go to the springs and taste the water, which is horrid:  then we mounted and cantered leisurely on to Montmorency, a hilly, desolate-looking place, although so much lauded by the Parisians:  I suppose the beautiful forest in the vicinity is its attraction.  The road for the next five or six miles was shaded by trees, and most of it was a soft turf on which the horses’ hoofs rebounded noiselessly, with views of rolling country at intervals.  The chateau had been a hunting-lodge two or three hundred years ago, but nothing remains of it now but a couple of towers, to which a modern country inn has been added, where excellent dinners may be had, as I can testify.  It is a great place for the picnics and pleasure-parties of the natives, but foreigners seldom visit it.  After we had wandered about for several hours, enjoying ourselves in that silly French way, with nothing but light hearts, fresh air, green grass and blue sky for all incitement thereto, I, in consideration of my evening journey, recommended our return.  We had the horses brought round, and then my career commenced.”

“Why, how?”

“You know that road from the chateau?  No you don’t, but I will tell you of it.  The woods lie on one side, and an ivy-covered wall separates it from sloping fields on the other—­the prettiest place on earth.” ("Artistic,” thought I:  “she has decided on landscape-painting;” but I did not interrupt.) “It was just there that Mr. Kenderdine came to my side:  he had dismounted to open the gate, and was leading his horse.  He came to my side, and, looking up at me, said half seriously, half smiling, ’You are very happy to-day, Miss Eleanor:  what will you do when I am not with you to ride and walk and talk to?’

    “’I suppose I shall find some one in Rome who rides, walks and talks
    as well.  They say the Campagna is lovely for riding.’

    “‘And perhaps some one who waltzes as well.’

    “’Certainly:  that is no great accomplishment.  Like playing a
    hurdy-gurdy, if you turn round often enough you cannot fail to make
    a successful performance.’

    “‘There is one thing you will not find, Eleanor;’ and he laid his
    hand on my wrist:  ‘that is, some one who loves you as well.’

    “’Mr. Kenderdine, please get on your horse, and don’t talk
    nonsense.’

    “’I suppose I have as good a right to talk nonsense as any one, and
    I believe the fancy for doing so comes to all of us once in our
    lifetime.’

“‘I admit your right to talk, and claim mine to refuse to listen;’ so saying, I gave my horse a cut.  The animal started, but Fred’s hand was still on my bridle-wrist, and with a motion he checked the animal so violently that it reared, afterward coming down on the sod with a thud that almost unseated me.

    “‘I will talk, and you shall listen,’ said Mr. Fred, looking
    dangerous.