.
"It will be for my mother's sake. You were always tender and indulgent
to her; you would not like to see her unhappy."

These were Vixen's thoughts this bright September morning, as she sat
at her lonely little breakfast-table in the sunny window of her den,
with Argus by her side, intensely watchful of every morsel of
bread-and-butter she ate, though he had already been accommodated with
half the loaf.

She was more amiably disposed than usual this morning. She had made up
her mind to make the best of a painful position.

"I shall always hate him," she told herself, meaning Captain
Winstanley; "but I will begin a career of Christianlike hypocrisy, and
try to make other people believe that I like him. No, Argus," as the
big paw tugged her arm pleadingly, "no; now really this is sheer
greediness. You can't be hungry."

A piteous whine, as of a dog on the brink of starvation, seemed to
gainsay her. Just then the door opened, and the middle-aged footman
entered.

"Oh, if you please, miss, Bates says would you like to see Bullfinch?"

"To see Bullfinch," echoed Vixen. "What's the matter? Is he ill? Is he
hurt?"

"No, miss; but Bates thought as how maybe you'd like to see 'un before
he goes away. He's sold."

Vixen turned very pale. She started up, and stood for a few moments
silent, with her strong young hands clenched, just as she gripped them
on the reins sometimes when Arion was running away with her and there
were bogs in front.

"I'll come," she said in a half-suffocated voice.

"He has sold my father's horse, after all," she said to herself, as she
went towards the stables. "Then I shall hate him openly all my life.
Yes, everybody shall know that I hate him."

She found the stables in some commotion. There were two strangers,
groomy-looking men, standing in front of Bullfinch's loose-box, and all
the stablemen had come out of their various holes, and were standing
about.

Bates looked grave and indignant.

"There isn't a finer horse in the county," he muttered; "it's a shame
to send him out of it."

Vixen walked straight up to the strange men, who touched their caps,
and looked at her admiringly; her dark blue cloth dress fitted her like
a riding-habit, her long white throat was bare, her linen collar tied
loosely with a black ribbon, her chestnut hair wound into a crown of
plaits at the top of her head. The severe simplicity of her dress set
off her fresh young beauty.

"She's the prettiest ch