t narrowed to a
point and met in finer lines upon the bridge of a nose that was gently
aquiline, but not too large, as such noses are apt to be. A large,
expressive mouth, with wonderful rows of ivory, and the prettiest little
black down, fine as a hair, on her upper lip, and a skin rather dark but
clear, and glowing with the warm blood beneath it, completed this noble
girl. She was nineteen years of age.

Colonel Clifford received her with warm affection and old-fashioned
courtesy; but as he was disabled by a violent fit of gout, he deputed
Walter to attend to her on foot and horseback.

Miss Clifford, accustomed to homage, laid Walter under contribution every
day. She was very active, and he had to take her a walk in the morning,
and a ride in the afternoon. He winced a little under this at first; it
kept him so much from Mary. But there was some compensation. Julia
Clifford was a lady-like rider, and also a bold and skillful one.

The first time he rode with her he asked her beforehand what sort of a
horse she would like.

"Oh, anything," said she, "that is not vicious nor slow."

"A hack or a hunter?"

"Oh, a hunter, if I _may_."

"Perhaps you will do me the honor to look at them and select."

"You are very kind, and I will."

He took her to the stables, and she selected a beautiful black mare, with
a coat like satin.

"There," said Walter, despondingly. "I was afraid you would fix on _her_.
She is impossible, I can't ride her myself."

"Vicious?"

"Not in the least."

"Well, then--"

Here an old groom touched his hat, and said, curtly, "Too hot and
fidgety, miss. I'd as lieve ride of a boiling kettle."

Walter explained: "The poor thing is the victim of nervousness."

"Which I call them as rides her the victims," suggested the
ancient groom.

"Be quiet, George. She would go sweetly in a steeple-chase, if she didn't
break her heart with impatience before the start. But on the road she is
impossible. If you make her walk, she is all over lather in five minutes,
and she'd spoil that sweet habit with flecks of foam. My lady has a way
of tossing her head, and covering you all over with white streaks."

"She wants soothing," suggested Miss Clifford.

"Nay, miss. She wants bleeding o' Sundays, and sweating over the fallows
till she drops o' week-days. But if she was mine I'd put her to work a
coal-cart for six months; that would larn her."

"I will ride her," said Miss Clifford, calmly; "her or n