on the morrow. It was already dark, and surely
he might have been content on the first evening of
his arrival to abstain from the stables! Not
a word had been said to Sophie Mellerby of Lady Scroope’s
future hopes. Lady Scroope and Lady Sophia would
each have thought that it was wicked to do so.
But the two women had been fussy, and Miss Mellerby
must have been less discerning than are young ladies
generally, had she not understood what was expected
of her. Girls are undoubtedly better prepared
to fall in love with men whom they have never seen,
than are men with girls. It is a girl’s
great business in life to love and to be loved.
Of some young men it may almost be said that it is
their great business to avoid such a catastrophe.
Such ought not to have been the case with Fred Neville
now;—but in such light he regarded it.
He had already said to himself that Sophie Mellerby
was to be pitched at his head. He knew no reason,—none
as yet,—why he should not like Miss Mellerby
well enough. But he was a little on his guard
against her, and preferred seeing his horses first.
Sophie, when according to custom, and indeed in this
instance in accordance with special arrangement, she
went into Lady Scroope’s sitting-room for tea,
was rather disappointed at not finding Mr. Neville
there. She knew that he had visited his uncle
immediately on his arrival, and having just come in
from the park she had gone to her room to make some
little preparation for the meeting. If it was
written in Fate’s book that she was to be the
next Lady Scroope, the meeting was important.
Perhaps that writing in Fate’s book might depend
on the very adjustment which she was now making of
her hair.
“He has gone to look at his horses,” said
Lady Scroope, unable not to shew her disappointment
by the tone of her voice.
“That is so natural,” said Sophie, who
was more cunning. “Young men almost idolize
their horses. I should like to go and see Dandy
whenever he arrives anywhere, only I don’t dare!”
Dandy was Miss Mellerby’s own horse, and was
accustomed to make journeys up and down between Mellerby
and London.
“I don’t think horses and guns and dogs
should be too much thought of,” said Lady Scroope
gravely. “There is a tendency I think at
present to give them an undue importance. When
our amusements become more serious to us than our
business, we must be going astray.”
“I suppose we always are going astray,”
said Miss Mellerby. Lady Scroope sighed and shook
her head; but in shaking it she shewed that she completely
agreed with the opinion expressed by her guest.
As there were only two horses to be inspected, and
as Fred Neville absolutely refused the groom’s
invitation to look at the old carriage horses belonging
to the family, he was back in his aunt’s room
before Miss Mellerby had gone upstairs to dress for
dinner. The introduction was made, and Fred did
his best to make himself agreeable. He was such
a man that no girl could, at the first sight of him,