s been
offered to me to-day?"

"Dearest mamma, you alarm me. What has happened?"

"One of the deepest humiliations I ever had to endure. But you were
roaming about the Forest. You were following the instincts of your wild
nature. What do you care for my mortification? If I had telegraphed to
my housekeeper, it would not have happened. But I trusted in my
daughter."

"Dear mamma," pleaded Vixen, looking anxious and bewildered, "if you
would only explain. You make me miserable. What has happened?"

"Violet, your stepfather and I had to drive home from the station in a
fly!"

"Oh, mamma!" cried Vixen, with a gasp. "Is that all?"

"Is that all? Do you think that is not enough? Do you understand,
child?--a fly--a common innkeeper's fly--that anybody may have for
half-a-guinea; a fly with a mouldy lining, smelling of--other people!
And on such an occasion, when every eye was upon us! No; I was never so
degraded. And we had to wait--yes, a quarter of an hour, at least, and
it seemed ages, while Pycroft's fly was got ready for us; yes, while a
rough forest pony was dragged out of his wretched stable, and a man,
whose face had not been washed for a week, shuffled himself into an old
coachman's coat. And there were all the porters staring at me, and
laughing inwardly, I know. And, as a last drop in the cup, Colonel
Carteret drove up in his phaeton to catch the up-train just as we were
getting into that disgraceful looking vehicle, and would stop to shake
hands with us both, and insisted upon handing me into the horrid thing."

"Dear mamma, I am more sorry than I can say," said Vixen gently; "but I
was afraid it was something much worse."

"Nothing could be worse, Vixen."

"Then the telegram was to order the carriage to meet you, I suppose?"

"Of course. We telegraphed from the Grosvenor at nine o'clock this
morning. Who would imagine that you would be out of doors at such an
hour?"

"I am not often out so early. But something happened this morning to
put me out of temper, and I went for a ramble."

"A ramble lasting from ten in the morning till half-past four in the
afternoon," remarked Captain Winstanley, with his gaze still fixed upon
empty space. "Rather a long walk for a solitary young lady."

Vixen appeared unconscious that anyone had spoken. Roderick Vawdrey
felt a burning desire to kick the new master of the Abbey House.

"Shall I pour out your tea, mamma?" asked Vixen meekly.

"If you like. I am utterly