"I did so pray Lord George to let me try and jump back to you. We
were over, you know, before it happened. But he said it was quite
impossible. We did wait till we saw you were out."

"It didn't signify at all, Lady Eustace."

"And I was so sorry when I went through the wall at the corner of
the wood before you. But I was so excited I hardly knew what I
was doing." Lucinda, who was quite used to these affairs in the
hunting-field, simply nodded her acceptance of this apology. "But it
was a glorious run; wasn't it?"

"Pretty well," said Mrs. Carbuncle.

"Oh, it was glorious,--but then I got over the river. And oh, if you
had been there afterwards. There was such an adventure between a man
in a gig and my cousin Frank." Then they all went to the train, and
were carried home to Portray.

CHAPTER XL

"You Are Not Angry?"

On their journey back to Portray, the ladies were almost too tired
for talking; and Sir Griffin was sulky. Sir Griffin had as yet heard
nothing about Greystock's adventure, and did not care to be told.
But when once they were at the castle, and had taken warm baths, and
glasses of sherry, and got themselves dressed and had come down to
dinner, they were all very happy. To Lizzie it had certainly been the
most triumphant day of her life. Her marriage with Sir Florian had
been triumphant, but that was only a step to something good that was
to come after. She then had at her own disposal her little wits and
her prettiness, and a world before her in which, as it then seemed
to her, there was a deal of pleasure if she could only reach it. Up
to this period of her career she had hardly reached any pleasure;
but this day had been very pleasant. Lord George de Bruce Carruthers
had in truth been her Corsair, and she had found the thing which
she liked to do, and would soon know how to do. How glorious it was
to jump over that black, yawning stream, and then to see Lucinda
fall into it! And she could remember every jump, and her feeling of
ecstasy as she landed on the right side. And she had by heart every
kind word that Lord George had said to her,--and she loved the sweet,
pleasant, Corsair-like intimacy that had sprung up between them. She
wondered whether Frank was at all jealous. It wouldn't be amiss that
he should be a little jealous. And then somebody had brought home in
his pocket the fox's brush, which the master of the hounds had told
the huntsman to give her. It was all delightful;--an