h stores of coral fruit
that hung as yet untouched on every hawthorn or eglantine.

The ladies mustered strong on the smooth turf of the chalk down bordering
the copse which was being drawn. Phoebe looked out for acquaintance, but
a few gentlemen coming up to greet her, she did not notice, as Mervyn
did, that the girls with whom he had wished to leave her had become
intent on some doings in the copse, and had trotted off with their
father. He made his way to the barouche where sat the _grande dame_ of
the county, exchanged civilities, and asked leave to introduce his
sister. Phoebe, who had never seen the lady before, thought nothing of
the cold distant bow; it was for Mervyn, who knew what her greetings
could be, to fume and rage inwardly. Other acknowledgments passed, but
no party had approached or admitted Phoebe, and when the hounds went
away, she was still riding alone with her brother and a young officer.
She bade them not to mind her, she would ride home with the servant, and
as all were in motion, she had enough to do to hold in her horse, while
Mervyn and his friend dashed forward, and soon she found herself alone,
except for the groom; the field were well away over the down, the
carriages driving off, the mounted maidens following the chase as far as
the way was fair and lady-like.

Phoebe had no mind to do so. Her isolation made her feel forlorn, and
brought home Miss Charlecote's words as to the opinion entertained of her
by the world. Poor child, something like a tear came into her eye and a
blush to her cheek, but, 'never mind,' she thought, 'they will believe
Miss Charlecote, and she will take care of me. If only Mervyn will not
get angry, and make an uproar! I shall soon be gone away! When shall I
come back?'

She rode up to the highest part of the down for a take-leave gaze. There
lay Elverslope in its basin-like valley scooped out in the hills, with
the purple bloom of autumnal haze veiling its red brick and slate; there,
on the other side, the copses and arable fields dipped and rose, and rose
and dipped again, till the undulations culminated in the tall fir-trees
in the Holt garden, the landmark of the country; and on the bare slope to
the west, Beauchamp's pillars and pediment made a stately speck in the
landscape. 'Home no longer!' thought Phoebe; 'there will be strangers
there--and we shall be on the world! Oh! why cannot Mervyn be like
Robert? How happy we could be!'

Beauchamp h