shining chestnut coat through the trees, and it was not long before I was helping her rider to dismount. 'Not pretty' had been the verdict passed on her the previous evening, when Mrs. Drummond was under discussion. 'Not proven,' I said then to myself, though I spoke out never a word; now I gave utterance, mentally, to a decided 'Not guilty.'
She wore her light grey habit, but in place of the shady straw hat she generally wore, she had put on a saucy little velvet hat that suited her fair hair and skin to perfection. She had a colour, too, with fast riding, and her soft hazel eyes and fresh lips were both smiling. Then her manner, simple, gay to playfulness, yet never overstepping the invisible bounds of good breeding, or losing its quiet dignity, was so different to that of the others; while her voice, with its modulated tones, fell so pleasantly on the ear, after the somewhat uncultivated accents of Mrs. Creek and her friends.
After I had found Mrs. Drummond a seat, I remembered Miss Blount's gracious offer, and the place being still vacant, took up my position by her side. She was not a silent individual, and had, besides, a very fair appetite. So between keeping her supplied with eatables and drinkables, and replying to her provocative speeches, I was not idle in mind or body. I managed, however, to see that my guest—for I felt as if I had a claim to her—was not neglected. I had no chance of saying much, but I glanced once or twice towards her, when my companion said anything
