The Countess, when she had dropped the letter in the bag, returned to her chamber, and deputed Dorothy Loring, whom she met on the stairs, to run and request Rose to lend her her album to beguile the afternoon with; and Dorothy dances to Rose, saying, ’The Countess de Lispy-Lispy would be delighted to look at your album all the afternoon.’

‘Oh what a woman that is!’ says Rose.  ‘Countess de Lazy-Lazy, I think.’

The Countess, had she been listening, would have cared little for accusations on that head.  Idlesse was fashionable:  exquisite languors were a sign of breeding; and she always had an idea that she looked more interesting at dinner after reclining on a couch the whole of the afternoon.  The great Mel and his mate had given her robust health, and she was able to play the high-born invalid without damage to her constitution.  Anything amused her; Rose’s album even, and the compositions of W. H., E. H., D. F., and F. L. The initials F. L. were diminutive, and not unlike her own hand, she thought.  They were appended to a piece of facetiousness that would not have disgraced the abilities of Mr. John Raikes; but we know that very stiff young gentlemen betray monkey-minds when sweet young ladies compel them to disport.  On the whole, it was not a lazy afternoon that the Countess passed, and it was not against her wish that others should think it was.

CHAPTER XX

BREAK-NECK LEAP

The August sun was in mid-sky, when a troop of ladies and cavaliers issued from the gates of Beckley Court, and winding through the hopgardens, emerged on the cultivated slopes bordering the downs.  Foremost, on her grey cob, was Rose, having on her right her uncle Seymour, and on her left Ferdinand Laxley.  Behind came Mrs. Evremonde, flanked by Drummond and Evan.  Then followed Jenny Graine, supported by Harry and William Harvey.  In the rear came an open carriage, in which Miss Carrington and the Countess de Saldar were borne, attended by Lady Jocelyn and Andrew Cogglesby on horseback.  The expedition had for its object the selection of a run of ground for an amateur steeple-chase:  the idea of which had sprung from Laxley’s boasts of his horsemanship:  and Rose, quick as fire, had backed herself, and Drummond and Evan, to beat him.  The mention of the latter was quite enough for Laxley.

‘If he follows me, let him take care of his neck,’ said that youth.

‘Why, Ferdinand, he can beat you in anything!’ exclaimed Rose, imprudently.

But the truth was, she was now more restless than ever.  She was not distant with Evan, but she had a feverish manner, and seemed to thirst to make him show his qualities, and excel, and shine.  Billiards, or jumping, or classical acquirements, it mattered not—­Evan must come first.  He had crossed the foils with Laxley, and disarmed him; for Mel his father had seen him trained for a military career.  Rose made a noise about the encounter, and Laxley was eager for his opportunity, which he saw in the proposed mad gallop.