"But you will give way, of
course--that goes without saying--and let Esmeralda go once again. You
will not stand out to the end!"

"How could I? Suppose it was myself, and--someone I told you about.
How should I feel if I had the chance of seeing him, and she would not
allow me? I believe they are really beginning to care for each other,
and he is a nice man. I should like him well enough."

"A week ago you were alarmed at the thought! I confess he makes on me a
pleasant impression, but surely you know very little about him, and it
is rather rash to accept him at once as a possible suitor. What do you
know beyond that he is handsome, and appears amiable and kind?"

"His uncle was one of the Hilliards of Nanabeg. My father knew him
well, and he was a fine, old-fashioned gentleman. That was what made
this Mr Geoffrey come here for the hunting. He had heard his uncle
speak of Bally William, and the Trelawneys take paying guests for the
hunting season, so he arranged to come to them. He is not very well
off, I'm afraid, for Joan tells me that he has to make his money out of
glue, poor creature! But he must be nice, if he is the old squire's
nephew."

Mademoiselle's eyes rolled upward with an eloquent glance. It was a new
article of faith that a nephew must needs be exemplary because his uncle
had been a popular country squire, but she held her peace and amused
herself by watching the play which went on between the two sisters
during the next twenty-four hours. Esmeralda was plainly anxious and
ill at ease, and made tentative allusions to the coming meet, which
Bridgie received with bland obtuseness. She had not the courage to make
her request in so many words, but instead brought forward a succession
of gloomy prophecies calculated to dampen expectation in the mind of any
but the most enthusiastic rider.

"It will be a heavy run to-morrow," she said, shaking her head dismally
as she glanced out of the window on the quickly melting snow. "I
wouldn't wonder if it poured with rain! It's a fine draggled set the
women will look before they get home."

"I prefer the ground soft, and as for sunshine, it's a thing I detest,--
dazzling your eyes, and the poor mare's into the bargain. Dull weather
and a cloudy sky is what I hope to see, and for once it looks as if I
should get my wish."

"Well, it's good weather you need, to get safely over that country. Mr
O'Brien was saying only last season that it was th