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matter out between you? Miss Bolderwood will be in danger of contracting a chill, I fear.’
    Martin cast him a smouldering look, but Mr Warboys at once responded: ‘By Jupiter, so she will! Nasty wind blowing! No sense in standing about – silly thing to do!’
    ‘I’ll accompany you!’ Martin said, wheeling his horse about.
    ‘Yes, pray do!’ said Marianne, thoroughly enjoying this rivalry for her favours. ‘Papa and Mama will be so glad to see you! And you too, Mr Warboys!’
    ‘If I and not St Erth had found you,’ said Martin, ‘we would soon have seen whether Troubadour would have carried you or not!’
    ‘Well, since the matter appears to trouble you, why should you not at once put it to the test?’ suggested Gervase. ‘You will not object to changing horses, Miss Bolderwood? I very much fear that nothing less will satisfy poor Martin.’
    Martin looked to be at once surprised and scornful. He had no great opinion of his brother’s mettle, but he had not expected him to relinquish his advantage so very tamely. He smiled triumphantly, and dismounted, but not in time to forestall Gervase in lifting Marianne down from Cloud’s back. She was installed on Troubadour’s saddle; the Earl swung himself on to Cloud again; and Martin, preparing to lead his horse along the street, realized too late that between the horseman and the pedestrian the advantage lay with the former. The Earl, riding easily beside the lady, was able to engage her in conversation, while his brother, plodding along at Troubadour’s head, was obliged, whenever he wished to claim her attention, to turn his head to look up at her, and to repeat his remark several times. The playful nature of her exchanges with Gervase considerably exacerbated his temper; nor was he mollified to observe that the Earl’s gallantry seemed to be very much to Marianne’s taste. After one or two unsuccessful attempts to draw her into conversation with himself, he relapsed into sulky silence; and was very nearly provoked, at journey’s end, into giving his friend, Mr Warboys, a leveller. Mr Warboys, a mournful witness of his discomfiture, was ill-advised enough to say to him, as Marianne led the Earl up the steps to the door of Whissenhurst Grange: ‘Rolled-up, dear boy! Very shabby stratagem! Fellow must have been on the Staff, I should think!’
    Marianne’s safe arrival was greeted by her mother, her father, the butler, the housekeeper, and her old nurse with the most profound thanksgiving. The news of Fairy’s riderless return to the stables had only just been brought up to the house, so that there was time yet to send one of the footmen running to stop the grooms and the stableboys setting forth to scour the countryside in search of her. Sir Thomas, who had been shouting for his horse, pulling on his boots, and issuing instructions, all in one breath, was only induced to cease shaking and hugging his daughter by the necessity of thanking her preserver. His wife, though very much more restrained in her expressions, was equally obliged to the Earl; and it was hard to imagine how either of them could have been more grateful to him had he rescued Marianne from some deadly peril. As for Marianne, she laughed, and coaxed, and begged pardon, and was very soon forgiven her imprudence. Her Mama bore her upstairs to put off her muddied habit; Sir Thomas shouted for refreshment to be brought to the saloon, whither he led the Earl; and Martin, fairly gnashing his teeth, said stiffly that he would take his leave, now that he had seen Marianne restored to her parents.
    ‘Yes, yes, there is no occasion for you to kick your heels, my boy!’ said Sir Thomas genially. ‘To be sure, we are always glad to see you at Whissenhurst, and you too, Barny, but you will be wanting to go about your business now! This way, my lord! To think I had been meaning to wait on you next week, and here you are, making it quite unnecessary for me to do so! I am glad of it: I am no hand at