and disappeared among the buildings of the village.
During this short dialogue, young Edwards had stood, an attentive listener, holding in his hand a fishing-rod, the day and the season having tempted him also to desert the house, for the pleasure of exercise in the air. As the equestrians turned through the gate, he approached the young maidens, who were already moving on to the gravelled walk that led to the street, and was about to address them, as Louisa paused, and said quickly—
"Here is Mr. Edwards, would speak to us, Elizabeth."
The other stopped also, and turned to the youth, politely, but with a slight coldness in her air, that sensibly checked the freedom with which the gentleman had approached them.
"Your father is not pleased that you should walk unattended in the hills, Miss Temple. If I might offer myself as a protector"—
"Does my father select Mr. Oliver Edwards as the organ of his displeasure?" interrupted the lady.
"Good Heaven! you misunderstood my meaning," cried the youth; "I should have said uneasy, for not pleased. I am his servant, madam, and in consequence yours. I repeat that, with your consent, I will change my rod for a fowling-piece, and keep nigh you on the mountain."
"I thank you, Mr. Edwards," returned Elizabeth, suffering one of her fascinating smiles to chase the trifling frown from her features; "but where there is no danger, no protection is required. We are not yet, sir, reduced to wandering among these free hills accompanied by a body guard. If such an one is necessary, there he is, however.—Here, Brave, Brave my noble Brave!"
