she was about.  She was quite alive to the fact that different men require different manners in a young woman; and as she had adapted herself to Mr. Morton at Washington, so could she at Rufford adapt herself to Lord Rufford.  At the present moment the lord was in love with her as much as he was wont to be in love.  “Doesn’t it seem an immense time since we came here yesterday?” she said to him.  “There has been so much done”

“There has been a great misfortune.”

“I suppose that is it.  Only for that how very very pleasant it would have been!”

“Yes, indeed.  It was a nice run, and that little horse carried you charmingly.  I wish I could see you ride him again” She shook her head as she looked up into his face.  “Why do you shake your head?”

“Because I am afraid there is no possible chance of such happiness.  We are going to such a dull house to-morrow!  And then to so many dull houses afterwards.”

“I don’t know why you shouldn’t come back and have another day or two;—­when all this sadness has gone by.”

“Don’t talk about it, Lord Rufford.”

“Why not?”

“I never like to talk about any pleasure because it always vanishes as soon as it has come;—­and when it has been real pleasure it never comes back again.  I don’t think I ever enjoyed anything so much as our ride this morning, till that tragedy came.”

“Poor Caneback!”

“I suppose there is no hope?” He shook his head.  “And we must go on to those Gores to-morrow without knowing anything about it.  I wonder whether you could send me a line.”

“Of course I can, and I will.”  Then he asked her a question looking into her face.  “You are not going back to Bragton?”

“Oh dear, no.”

“Was Bragton dull?”

“Awfully dull; frightfully dull.”

“You know what they say?”

“What who say, Lord Rufford?  People say anything,—­the more ill-natured the better they like it, I think.”

“Have you not heard what they say about you and Mr. Morton?”

“Just because mamma made a promise when in Washington to go to Bragton with that Mr. Gotobed.  Don’t you find they marry you to everybody?”

“They have married me to a good many people.  Perhaps they’ll marry me to you to-morrow.  That would not be so bad.”

“Oh, Lord Rufford!  Nobody has ever condemned you to anything so terrible as that.”

“There was no truth in it then, Miss Trefoil?”

“None at all, Lord Rufford.  Only I don’t know why you should ask me.”

“Well; I don’t know.  A man likes sometimes to be sure how the land lies.  Mr. Morton looks so cross that I thought that perhaps the very fact of my dancing with you might be an offence.”

“Is he cross?”

“You know him better than I do.  Perhaps it’s his nature.  Now I must do one other dance with a native and then my work will be over.”