Guy came home in great spirits; he had been admirably carried.  He and the first whip, a ten-stone man, were head and head at the last fence, while the hounds were rolling over their fox, a hundred yards farther, in the open.

After dinner he amused himself with teasing his cousin.  At last he asked her if she would lend him Bella Donna to hack to cover, as his own favorite was rather lame.

Miss Raymond’s indignation was superb; for, be it known, she was prouder of the said animal than of any thing else in the world.

She (the mare, not the lady) was a bright bay, with black points, quite thorough-bred, and as handsome as a picture.  Livingstone had bought her out of a training-stable, and had given her to his cousin, after having broken her into a perfect light-weight hunter.

One of the few extravagances in which Mr. Raymond indulged his daughter was allowing her to take Bella Donna wherever she went.

“Don’t excite yourself, you small Amazon!” replied Guy to her indignant refusal.  “How you do believe in that mare!  I wonder you don’t put her into some of the great Spring Handicaps!  You would get her in light, and might win enough to keep you in gloves for half a century.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Forester’s slow, languid voice suggested; “I think she’s faster, for three miles, than any thing in your stable.  I should like to run the best you have for L50, weight for inches.”

“I am not surprised at your supporting Bella’s opinion,” said Guy, with a shade of sarcasm in his voice, “but I did not expect you would back it.  Come, I’ll make this match, if you like; you shall ride catch-weight, which will be about 11 st. 7 lb., and I’ll ride the Axeine at 14 st. 7 lb.:  I must take a 7 lb. saddle to do that.  They are both in hard condition, so it can come off in ten days; and I’ll give the farmers a cup to run for at the same time.  Is it a match?”

“Certainly, if Miss Raymond will trust me with Bella Donna.”

Isabel’s eyes sparkled—­so brilliantly! as she answered, “I should like it, of all things.”

“Now, Puss,” Guy went on, “you ought to have something on it.  There is a certain set of turquoises and pearls that I meant to give you whenever you had been good for three weeks consecutively; it is no use waiting for such a miracle, so I’ll bet you these against that sapphire and diamond ring you have taken to wearing lately.”

His cousin looked distressed and confused.  “Any thing else, Guy,” she said.  “I can not risk that; it was a present from—­from Mrs. Molyneux.”

“I don’t think,” Charley suggested, very quietly, “Mrs.—­Molyneux, was it not?—­could object to your investing her present on such a certainty.  I really believe we shall bring it off; and if not—­” He checked himself with a smile.

“Oh, if you think so,” answered Isabel, blushing more than ever, “I will venture my ring.  But you must win; I don’t know what I should do if I lost it.”  So it was settled.