The carriage rolled over the turf, attended by Andrew, and Lady Jocelyn, and the hunt was seen; Mr. George some forty paces a-head; Seymour gaining on him, Rose next.

‘Who’s that breasting Rose?’ said Lady Jocelyn, lifting her glass.

‘My brother-in-law, Harrington,’ returned Andrew.

‘He doesn’t ride badly,’ said Lady Jocelyn.  ’A little too military.  He must have been set up in England.’

‘Oh, Evan can do anything,’ said Andrew enthusiastically.  ’His father was a capital horseman, and taught him fencing, riding, and every accomplishment.  You won’t find such a young fellow, my lady—­’

‘The brother like him at all?’ asked Lady Jocelyn, still eyeing the chase.

‘Brother?  He hasn’t got a brother,’ said Andrew.

Lady Jocelyn continued:  ‘I mean the present baronet.’

She was occupied with her glass, and did not observe the flush that took hold of Andrew’s ingenuous cheeks, and his hurried glance at and off the quiet eye of the Countess.  Miss Carrington did observe it.

Mr. Andrew dashed his face under the palm of his hand, and murmured: 

‘Oh-yes!  His brother-in-law isn’t much like him—­ha! ha!’

And then the poor little man rubbed his hands, unconscious of the indignant pity for his wretched abilities in the gaze of the Countess; and he must have been exposed—­there was a fear that the ghost of Sir Abraham would have darkened this day, for Miss Carrington was about to speak, when Lady Jocelyn cried:  ‘There’s a purl!  Somebody’s down.’

The Countess was unaware of the nature of a purl, but she could have sworn it to be a piece of Providence.

‘Just by old Nat Hodges’ farm, on Squire Copping’s ground,’ cried Andrew, much relieved by the particular individual’s misfortune.  ’Dear me, my lady! how old Tom and I used to jump the brook there, to be sure! and when you were no bigger than little Miss Loring—­do you remember old Tom?  We’re all fools one time in our lives!’

‘Who can it be?’ said Lady Jocelyn, spying at the discomfited horseman.  ‘I’m afraid it’s poor Ferdinand.’

They drove on to an eminence from which the plain was entirely laid open.

‘I hope my brother will enjoy his ride this day,’ sighed the Countess.  ‘It will be his limit of enjoyment for a lengthened period!’

She perceived that Mr. George’s capture was inevitable, and her heart sank; for she was sure he would recognize her, and at the moment she misdoubted her powers.  She dreamed of flight.

‘You’re not going to leave us?’ said Lady Jocelyn.  ’My dear Countess, what will the future member do without you?  We have your promise to stay till the election is over.’

‘Thanks for your extreme kind courtesy, Lady Jocelyn,’ murmured the Countess:  ‘but my husband—­the Count.’

‘The favour is yours,’ returned her ladyship.  ’And if the Count cannot come, you at least are at liberty?’