ame." And having so said, Timothy rode
off at a rapid pace.

"Can it be possible!" exclaimed Vernon Wycherley--"can it be possible
that so lovely a being--one who seems too beautiful to tread the
earth"----

"And so rides on horseback over it; is that what you mean?" interrupted
Frank.

"No, you know very well it is not what I mean," answered Vernon
petulantly. "My wonder is, how one so elegant could be called by such a
name as that knave uttered."

"What! Molly Potts, eh? that I believe was the name he mentioned?"
interposed Frank.

"Pshaw, nonsense!" retorted his companion; "it can't be her name. The
idea's too preposterous to be true. That insolent clown has dared to try
to hoax us; for which I promise him, if I were his master, I'd break
every bone in his good-for-nothing body. Molly Potts! It never can be
so. The thing's quite out of the question--utterly impossible!"

"Impossible or not, I don't see that it's likely to make much difference
either to you or me," observed Frank; "for the chances are, we never set
eyes upon either of them again."

"Then," said Vernon, "I almost wish that I, at least, had never set
eyes upon one of them at all. To know that such an angel moves about on
earth, and to think that I may never see her more, must ever form a
source of deep regret; and yet it seems strange--very strange--that
I--I--who have ever looked upon the fairest of the sex unmoved, should
be so struck as I was here by a mere glance."

"A very hard hit, certainly," said Frank: "I never saw a fellow more
completely floored."

"Better book that to tell again," retorted vernon; "it really is so
seldom you do say a witty thing, that it's a pity it should be lost upon
these dull moors."

"Then, unless we intend to follow the fate of my wit," resumed Frank,
"we must step out a little faster to get out of them; which we sha'n't
do under a couple of miles' walk more, I promise you."

CHAPTER II.

Frank Trevelyan's statement proved tolerably correct as to distance, for
little more than two miles brought our travellers clear of the rugged
moorlands; when, after ascending the brow of a steep hill, a sight broke
suddenly upon them, which, though unlike the scenery they had previously
passed over, presented if possible a more dreary picture. As far as the
eye could reach, nothing could be discerned but one vast wilderness of
undulating sandy hillocks, totally devoid of vegetation, except a kind
of coarse rush, wh