was to see the evil-looking countenance of their companion
on the omnibus close at hand, though whether Trevor had seen him or not
he could not tell.

For, probably from a love of the beautiful, the young men's steps
generally led them to where they could stand in pretty close proximity
to the barouche--whose occupants seemed to have, for one at least,
something of an attraction. And no wonder; for on the front seat were
two fresh, bright-eyed English girls, whose eyes sparkled with
animation, and in whose cheeks came and went the bright colour that told
you of excited interest in the day's proceedings.

"I thought as much," said Pratt, as they passed once close by the
carriage on their way to the stand, and a quick glance showed that they
were recognised by the ladies, who coloured slightly, and turned away;
whilst the old gentleman's countenance, as he stood up, gradually
assumed the purply-red well known to all who have seen a turkey-cock at
such time as he ruffleth his plumes, and scowled fiercely at the
friends.

"The impudent scoundrels!" he said aloud, as he turned to the elderly
lady at his side.

"That comes of being in bad company," said Pratt. "Dick, old fellow, I
shall walk back. Here, my friend, I have feeling in my toe."

"Beg pardon, sir, I'm sure," said a fine, handsome, bluff
West-countryman--a regular keeper, in brown velveteens; "I really didn't
see you." And he passed on towards the barouche, the friends following
him with their eyes, to see him touch his hat to first one and then
another of the inmates, who smiled, and seemed to talk to him in a very
animated way, the old gentleman ending by pointing to the box-seat, a
good post for seeing, to which the young man climbed.

"Lucky dog!" said Frank Pratt, softly; and they took their places on the
stand, from which, close at hand, they could readily command the
movements of all in the barouche.

But there was the ground mapped out by the little flags; green field,
ploughed piece, brook, road, double fence, bullfinch; a cluster of
spectators by this dangerous leap; a pollard laden with human fruit
there; oak branches bending, groups of mounted men, with here and there
the flutter of veil and riding-habit; vehicles in pastures, lanes, and
wherever a glimpse could be obtained of the course; and over all the
bright unclouded sun looked down, gilding, with its mellow beams, brown
stubble and changing leaf; while overhead, little troubled by the