the troop. 'Who's that fellow on him?'

'His name's Harrington,' quoth Drummond.

'Oh, Harrington!' Mr. George responded; but immediately
laughed--'Harrington? 'Gad, if he takes the leap it'll be odd--another
of the name. That's where old Mel had his spill.'

'Who?' Drummond inquired.

'Old Mel Harrington--the Lymport wonder. Old Marquis Mel,' said Mr.
George. 'Haven't ye heard of him?'

'What! the gorgeous tailor!' exclaimed Lady Jocelyn. 'How I regret never
meeting that magnificent snob! that efflorescence of sublime imposture!
I've seen the Regent; but one's life doesn't seem complete without
having seen his twin-brother. You must give us warning when you have him
down at Croftlands again, Mr. George.'

'Gad, he'll have to come a long distance--poor old Mel!' said Mr.
George; and was going on, when Seymour Jocelyn stroked his moustache to
cry, 'Look! Rosey 's starting 'em, by Jove!'

The leap, which did not appear formidable from where they stood, was
four fields distant from the point where Rose, with a handkerchief in
her hand, was at that moment giving the signal to Laxley and Evan.

Miss Carrington and the Countess begged Lady Jocelyn to order a shout
to be raised to arrest them, but her ladyship marked her good sense by
saying: 'Let them go, now they're about it'; for she saw that to make
a fuss now matters had proceeded so far, was to be uncivil to the
inevitable.

The start was given, and off they flew. Harry Jocelyn, behind them, was
evidently caught by the demon, and clapped spurs to his horse to have
his fling as well, for the fun of the thing; but Rose, farther down the
field, rode from her post straight across him, to the imminent peril of
a mutual overset; and the party on the height could see Harry fuming,
and Rose coolly looking him down, and letting him understand what her
will was; and her mother, and Drummond, and Seymour who beheld this, had
a common sentiment of admiration for the gallant girl. But away went the
rivals. Black Lymport was the favourite, though none of the men thought
he would be put at the fence. The excitement became contagious. The
Countess threw up her veil. Lady Jocelyn, and Seymour, and Drummond,
galloped down the lane, and Mr. George was for accompanying them, till
the line of Miss Carrington's back gave him her unmistakeable opinion
of such a course of conduct, and he had to dally and fret by her side.
Andrew's arm was tightly grasped by the Countess. The rivals we