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.

Now Mr. George Uplift, who usually rode in buckskins whether he was after the fox or fresh air, was out on this particular morning; and it happened that, as the cavalcade wound beneath the down, Mr. George trotted along the ridge.  He was a fat-faced, rotund young squire—­a bully where he might be, and an obedient creature enough where he must be—­good-humoured when not interfered with; fond of the table, and brimful of all the jokes of the county, the accent of which just seasoned his speech.  He had somehow plunged into a sort of half-engagement with Miss Carrington.  At his age, and to ladies of Miss Carrington’s age, men unhappily do not plunge head-foremost, or Miss Carrington would have had him long before.  But he was at least in for it half a leg; and a desperate maiden, on the criminal side of thirty, may make much of that.  Previous to the visit of the Countess de Saldar, Mr. George had been in the habit of trotting over to Beckley three or four times a week.  Miss Carrington had a little money:  Mr. George was heir to his uncle.  Miss Carrington was lean and blue-eyed.

Mr. George was black-eyed and obese.  By everybody, except Mr. George, the match was made:  but that exception goes for little in the country, where half the population are talked into marriage, and gossips entirely devote themselves to continuing the species.  Mr. George was certain that he had not been fighting shy of the fair Carrington of late, nor had he been unfaithful.  He had only been in an extraordinary state of occupation.  Messages for Lady Racial had to be delivered, and he had become her cavalier and escort suddenly.  The young squire was bewildered; but as he was only one leg in love—­if the sentiment may be thus spoken of figuratively—­his vanity in his present office kept him from remorse or uneasiness.