He did not mention that he had come home from a long round not half an hour before, a round from which he had returned dinnerless and hungry; but, on finding that Molly had not returned from the Towers, he had ridden his tired horse round by Miss Brownings’, and found them in self-reproachful, helpless dismay.  He would not wait to listen to their tearful apologies; he galloped home, had a fresh horse and Molly’s pony saddled, and though Betty called after him with a riding-skirt for the child, when he was not ten yards from his own stable-door, he had refused to turn back for it, but gone off, as Dick the stableman said, ‘muttering to himself awful.’

Mrs. Brown had her bottle of wine out, and her plate of cake, before Molly came back from her long expedition to Mrs. Kirkpatrick’s room, ‘pretty nigh on to a quarter of a mile off,’ as the housekeeper informed the impatient father, as he waited for his child to come down arrayed in her morning’s finery with the gloss of newness worn off.  Mr. Gibson was a favourite in all the Towers’ household, as family doctors generally are; bringing hopes of relief at times of anxiety and distress; and Mrs. Brown, who was subject to gout, especially delighted in petting him whenever he would allow her.  She even went out into the stable-yard to pin Molly up in the shawl, as she sate upon the rough-coated pony, and hazarded the somewhat safe conjecture,—­

‘I dare say she’ll be happier at home, Mr. Gibson,’ as they rode away.

Once out into the park Molly struck her pony, and urged him on as hard as he would go, Mr. Gibson called out at last,—­

’Molly! we’re coming to the rabbit-holes; it’s not safe to go at such a pace.  Stop.’  And as she drew rein he rode up alongside of her.

’We’re getting into the shadow of the trees, and it’s not safe riding fast here.’

’Oh! papa, I never was so glad in all my life.  I felt like a lighted candle when they’re putting the extinguisher on it.’

‘Did you?  How d’ye know what the candle feels?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, but I did.’  And again, after a pause, she said,—­ ’Oh, I am so glad to be here!  It is so pleasant riding here in the open free, fresh air, crushing out such a good smell from the dewy grass.  Papa! are you there?  I can’t see you.’

He rode close up alongside of her:  he was not sure but what she might be afraid of riding in the dark shadows, so he laid his hand upon hers.

‘Oh!  I am so glad to feel you,’ squeezing his hand hard.  ’Papa, I should like to get a chain like Ponto’s,’ just as long as your longest round, and then I could fasten us two to each end of it, and when I wanted you I could pull, and if you did not want to come, you could pull back again; but I should know you knew I wanted you, and we could never lose each other.’

’I’m rather lost in that plan of yours; the details, as you state them, are a little puzzling; but if I make them out rightly, I am to go about the country, like the donkeys on the common, with a clog fastened to my hind leg.’