EAP

The August sun was in mid-sky, when a troop of ladies and cavaliers
issued from the gates of Beckley Court, and winding through the
hopgardens, emerged on the cultivated slopes bordering the downs.
Foremost, on her grey cob, was Rose, having on her right her uncle
Seymour, and on her left Ferdinand Laxley. Behind came Mrs. Evremonde,
flanked by Drummond and Evan. Then followed Jenny Graine, supported by
Harry and William Harvey. In the rear came an open carriage, in which
Miss Carrington and the Countess de Saldar were borne, attended by Lady
Jocelyn and Andrew Cogglesby on horseback. The expedition had for its
object the selection of a run of ground for an amateur steeple-chase:
the idea of which had sprung from Laxley's boasts of his horsemanship:
and Rose, quick as fire, had backed herself, and Drummond and Evan, to
beat him. The mention of the latter was quite enough for Laxley.

'If he follows me, let him take care of his neck,' said that youth.

'Why, Ferdinand, he can beat you in anything!' exclaimed Rose,
imprudently.

But the truth was, she was now more restless than ever. She was not
distant with Evan, but she had a feverish manner, and seemed to thirst
to make him show his qualities, and excel, and shine. Billiards, or
jumping, or classical acquirements, it mattered not--Evan must come
first. He had crossed the foils with Laxley, and disarmed him; for Mel
his father had seen him trained for a military career. Rose made a noise
about the encounter, and Laxley was eager for his opportunity, which he
saw in the proposed mad gallop.

Now Mr. George Uplift, who usually rode in buckskins whether he was
after the fox or fresh air, was out on this particular morning; and
it happened that, as the cavalcade wound beneath the down, Mr. George
trotted along the ridge. He was a fat-faced, rotund young squire--a
bully where he might be, and an obedient creature enough where he must
be--good-humoured when not interfered with; fond of the table, and
brimful of all the jokes of the county, the accent of which
just seasoned his speech. He had somehow plunged into a sort of
half-engagement with Miss Carrington. At his age, and to ladies of Miss
Carrington's age, men unhappily do not plunge head-foremost, or Miss
Carrington would have had him long before. But he was at least in for it
half a leg; and a desperate maiden, on the criminal side of thirty, may
make much of that. Previous to the visit of the Countess de Sald