oaching on
horseback from the Barton side, who have been made one since we
left them at the fall of the curtain in the last chapter. They
ride lovingly together, close to one another, and forgetful of
the whole world, as they should do, for they have scarcely come
to the end of their honeymoon.
They are in country costume--she in a light habit, but well cut,
and sitting on her as well as she sits on her dainty grey; he in
shooting-coat and wide-awake, with his fishing basket slung over
his shoulder. They come steadily up the hillside, rousing a
yellow-hammer here and there from the furze-bushes, and only draw
bit when they have reached the very top of the knoll. Then they
dismount, and Tom produces two halters from his fishing basket,
and taking off the bridles, fastens the horses up in the shade of
the fir-trees, and loosens their girths, while Mary, after
searching in the basket, pulls out a bag, and pours out a
prodigal feed of corn before each of them, on the short grass.
"What are you doing, you wasteful little woman? You should have
put the bag underneath. They won't be able to pick up half the
corn."
"Never mind, dear; then the birds will get it."
"And you have given them enough for three feeds."
"Why did you put so much in the bag? Besides you know it is the
last feed I shall give her. Poor dear little Gypsy," she added,
patting the neck of her dapple grey; "you have found a kind
mistress for her, dear, haven't you?"
"Yes; I know she will be lightly worked and well cared for," he
said shortly, turning away, and busying himself with the basket
again.
"But no one will ever love you, Gipsy, like your old mistress.
Now give me a kiss, and you shall have your treat," and she
pulled a piece of sugar out of the pocket of her riding habit; at
the sight of which the grey held out her beautiful nose to be
fondled, and then lapped up the sugar with eager lips from Mary's
hand, and turned to her corn.
The young wife tripped across, and sat down near her husband, who
was laying out their luncheon on the turf.
"It was very kind of you think of coming here for our last ride,"
she said. "I remember how charmed I was with the place the first
Sunday I ever spent at Englebourn, when Katie brought me up here
directly after breakfast, before we went to the school. Such a
time ago it seems--before I ever saw you. And I have never been
here since. But I love it most for your sake, dear. Now, tell me
again all t
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