Up-stairs there was a very cosy party who came in by degrees.  Lady Penwether was there soon after ten with Miss Penge and some of the gentlemen, including Morton, who was the only man seen in that room in black.  Young Hampton, who vas intimate in the house, made his way up there and Sir John Purefoy joined the party.  Sir John was a hunting man who lived in the county and was an old friend of the family.  Lady Purefoy hunted also, and came in later.  Arabella was the last,—­not from laziness, but aware that in this way the effect might be the best.  Lord Rufford was in the room when she entered it and of course she addressed herself to him.  “Which is it to be, Lord Rufford, Jack or Jemima?”

“Which ever you like.”

“I am quite indifferent.  If you’ll put me on the mare I’ll ride her,—­or try.”

“Indeed you won’t,” said Lady Augustus.

“Mamma knows nothing about it, Lord Rufford.  I believe I could do just as well as Major Caneback.”

“She never had a lady on her in her life,” said Sir John.

“Then it’s time for her to begin.  But at any rate I must have some breakfast first” Then Lord Rufford brought her a cup of tea and Sir John gave her a cutlet, and she felt herself to be happy.  She was quite content with her hat, and though her habit was not exactly a hunting habit, it fitted her well.  Morton had never before seen her in a riding dress and acknowledged that it became her.  He struggled to think of something special to say to her, but there was nothing.  He was not at home on such an occasion.  His long trowsers weighed him down, and his ordinary morning coat cowed him.  He knew in his heart that she thought no thing of him as he was now.  But she said a word to him,—­with that usual smile of hers.  “Of course, Mr. Morton, you are coming with us.”

“A little way perhaps.”

“You’ll find that any horse from Stubbings can go,” said Lord Rufford.  “I wish I could say as much of all mine.”

“Jack can go, I hope, Lord Rufford.”  Lord Rufford nodded his head.  “And I shall expect you to give me a lead.”  To this he assented, though it was perhaps more than he had intended.  But on such an occasion it is almost impossible to refuse such a request.

At half-past eleven they were all out in the park, and Tony was elate as a prince having been regaled with a tumbler of champagne.  But the great interest of the immediate moment were the frantic efforts made by Jemima to get rid of her rider.  Once or twice Sir John asked the Major to give it up, but the Major swore that the mare was a good mare and only wanted riding.  She kicked and squealed and backed and went round the park with him at a full gallop.  In the park there was a rail with a ha-ha ditch, and the Major rode her at it in a gallop.  She went through the timber, fell in the ditch, and then was brought up again without giving the man a fall.  He at once put her back at the same fence, and she took it, almost in her stride, without touching it.  “Have her like a spaniel before the day’s over,” said the Major, who thoroughly enjoyed these little encounters.