for an instant on a servant's hand, settled herself in a moment on
horseback. Nothing could be more perfect than the whole thing, but
the wonder was that Mr. Tristram should have allowed it.

The party from Noningsby consisted of six or seven on horseback,
besides those in the carriage. Among the former there were the two
young ladies, Miss Furnival and Miss Staveley, and our friends Felix
Graham, Augustus Staveley, and Peregrine Orme. Felix Graham was not
by custom a hunting man, as he possessed neither time nor money for
such a pursuit; but to-day he was mounted on his friend Staveley's
second horse, having expressed his determination to ride him as long
as they two, the man and the horse, could remain together.

"I give you fair warning," Felix had said, "if I do not spare my own
neck, you cannot expect me to spare your horse's legs."

"You may do your worst," Staveley had answered. "If you give him his
head, and let him have his own way, he won't come to grief, whatever
you may do."

On their road to Monkton Grange, which was but three miles from
Noningsby, Peregrine Orme had ridden by the side of Miss Staveley,
thinking more of her than of the affairs of the hunt, prominent as
they were generally in his thoughts. How should he do it, and when,
and in what way should he commence the deed? He had an idea that it
might be better for him if he could engender some closer intimacy
between himself and Madeline before he absolutely asked the fatal
question; but the closer intimacy did not seem to produce itself
readily. He had, in truth, known Madeline Staveley for many years,
almost since they were children together; but lately, during these
Christmas holidays especially, there had not been between them that
close conversational alliance which so often facilitates such an
overture as that which Peregrine was now desirous of making. And,
worse again, he had seen that there was such close conversational
alliance between Madeline and Felix Graham. He did not on that
account dislike the young barrister, or call him, even within his own
breast, a snob or an ass. He knew well that he was neither the one
nor the other; but he knew as well that he could be no fit match
for Miss Staveley, and, to tell the truth, he did not suspect that
either Graham or Miss Staveley would think of such a thing. It was
not jealousy that tormented him, so much as a diffidence in his
own resources. He made small attempts which did not succeed,