acter of firm strength to
which a woman's temper is apt to give way. If it had been a
question of temper in the ordinary sense. But the lady of
Chickaree had nothing of the sort belonging to her that was
not as sweet as a rose.

'Allow me!' she said, just a little bit mockingly. 'Well--it's
not true, if you do believe it. I shall ride Vixen, or walk.'

'That would be very serious,' said Rollo, 'for it is going to
be very hot. What is the matter with the grey cob?'

'I don't like him--and I do like Vixen.'

'Have you ever ridden him?'

'No. And nothing in his appearance predicts that I ever
shall.'

'I do not think that Vixen is fit for you to mount. I am going
to find out. If she is you shall have her.'

'You can study her as much as you please, with me on her. Why,
what nonsense!--as if I didn't ride her all yesterday
afternoon!'

'And gave us, if you recollect, afterwards,' said Rollo,
looking amused, 'the synopsis of her character.'

'And now you think I am giving you the synopsis of mine,' said
Wych Hazel. 'Well, Mr. Rollo, of course your groom will not
mind me--will you order the saddles changed? or must I walk?'

'I shall not order the saddles changed. I am afraid. That is
no reason why you should be. Fear may be commendable in a man,
when it is not desirable in a woman.'

'But I cannot be bothered with anybody's fear but my own!'

He faced her with the same bright, grave face he had worn all
along. 'I owe it to Mr. Falkirk to carry you back safe and
sound.'

She laughed--her pretty mouth in a curl of fun.

'Ah,' she said, 'before you deal extensively with self-willed
women, you need to study the subject! I see the case is
hopeless. If you had presented it right end first, Mr. Rollo,
I cannot tell what I might have said, but as it is, I can only
walk.'

She turned quick about towards Primrose, pulling her hat back
into its place; which hat, being ill disposed, first caught on
her comb, and then, disengaged, carried the comb with it, and
down came Miss Hazel's hair about her shoulders. Not in 'wavy
tresses,' or 'rippling masses,' but in good, honest, wayward
curls, and plenty of them, and all her own. The hat had to
come off now, and gloves as well, for both hands had as much
as they could manage. Rollo took the gloves, and held the hat,
and waited upon her with grave punctiliousness, while Primrose
looked anxious and annoyed. When hair and hat were in order
again and he had delivered the gl