raceful wave around her neck and shoulders. She possessed,
besides, that inestimable advantage as a rider which perfect
fearlessness supplies, and seemed to be inspired with every eager
impulse of the bounding animal beneath her.

As Cashel continued to look, she had taken the mare a canter round a
large grass field, and was evidently endeavoring, by a light hand and
a soothing, caressing voice, to calm down her temper; stooping, as she
went, in the saddle to pat the animal's shoulder, and almost bending her
own auburn curls to the counter.

"She is perfect!" cried Roland, in a very ecstasy. "See that, Linton!
Mark how she sways herself in her saddle!"

"That comes of wearing no stays," said Linton, dryly, as he proceeded to
light a cigar.

"Now she's at it. Here she comes!" cried Cashel almost breathless with
anxiety; for the mare, chafed by the delay, no sooner was turned towards
the fence once more, than she stretched out and dashed wildly at it.

It was a moment of intense interest, for the speed was far too great
to clear a high leap with safety; the fear was, however, but momentary,
for, with a tremendous bound, the mare cleared the fence, and, after
a couple of minutes' cantering, stood with heaving flanks and swelling
nostril beside the other horse.

"You see my misfortune, I suppose?" said the girl, addressing Frobisher.

"No. She 's not cut about the legs?" said he, as he bent down in his
saddle and took a most searching survey of the animal.

"No, the hack is all right But don't you perceive that bit of blue cloth
flaunting yonder on the hedge?--that is part of my habit. See what a
tremendous rent is here; I declare, Charley, it is scarcely decent" And
to illustrate the remark, she wheeled her horse round so as to show the
fringed and jagged end of her riding-habit, beneath which a very finely
turned ankle and foot were now seen.

"Then why don't you wear trousers, like everybody else?" said Frobisher,
gruffly, and scarce bestowing even a passing glance at the well-arched
instep.

"Because I never get time to dress like any one else. You order me out
like one of your Newmarket boys," replied she, pettishly.

"By Jove! I wish any one of them had got your hand."

"To say nothing of the foot, Charley," said she, roguishly, and
endeavoring to arrange her torn drapery to the best advantage.

[Illustration: 432]

"No; that may do to astonish our friend Cashel, and make 'my lady'
jealous. By the way