a scientific point of view. Shall we go to Grantley's?" "Mrs. Grantley permits nothing so unholy in her establishment as a billiard table, my dear," said St. Erle, again imitating aunt Bessie. "That is all gammon; I played there myself, last week." "Then it shall be pool this evening at Glen View, and to-morrow, a walk across the hills to Rothwell. I'm longing for a good strike out in the sea." 133 CHAPTER XV. Each with an earnest glancing Thousands of restless spirits steal Thousands of waiting souls. "LAURA, I really cannot allow this. I shall certainly speak to your father." "He will only laugh, auntie-he always does laugh at my misdemeanours. Don't you think that young man is a gentleman ?" 66 I should think it unlikely, Laura, and at any rate my dear, it is highly improper to address a perfect stranger in such a familiar manner. You and he might have been acquainted for years.” "Ah, aunt Bessie-I shall never make you understand. We are kindred spirits, he and I-that is why we like one another." "Like one another-kindred spirits!" echoed Miss Maxwell in amazement; "my dear-he looks a very bad young man." So he does, auntie. Old men would pronounce him to be rather wild.' Half frightened mammas would be undecided as to whether he were fit to be admitted into the society of their sweet and charming daughters. For my part, aunt Bessie, I agree with you; he is, a very wild looking young man. spirits." Nevertheless, he and I are kindred This little conversation took place the morning after the walk to Charity Cottage. That Miss Maxwell's sensitive nerves were considerably shocked, was very evident, although her exterior was calm and dignified as usual. "You were talking about a mission in life the other day, Laura," she continued, the knitting-needles moving rapidly: "I think you might find something better even to amuse yourself with, than flirting with farmers." "I wish you would help me to find a mission," said Laura, with the most provoking indifference, twisting up a yard of pink ribbon into a very pretty bow. "What is this I hear my Laura sighing for a mission?" said Colonel Maxwell, riding up to the open casement: 66 your present mission must be a ride with your father, so away with you and put on your habit, while I go round to the stables, and order your horse." Laura ran away delighted, soon reappearing, arrayed in her dark blue habit, and coquettish little velvet riding cap, with its pure white ostrich feather. "Now papa, you will be good and take me round the cliffs," she said, as they rode slowly down the avenue; “I am pining for a sight of the sea." 'Well, I don't know," said the Colonel, eyeing his daughter's horse suspiciously: "Cleopatra looks rather skittish this morning, and the tide will be high. I should not like to see my lassie riding over High Edge." "Well then, we'll have a canter on the moor, first crossing yon bonny brae," said Laura, turning Cleopatra's head. The Colonel smiled. His daughter had been born in England-her mother was an Englishwoman; but he was a thorough Scotchman, and it pleased him well to hear Laura's sweet voice dropping a Scotch word or phrase now and then. common. They crossed the hill, and descended on the other side then cleared a low fence, and presently gained the How grand it looked, waxing faint and purple in the distance, with its boundary of rugged, cloud-capped hills, and how delicious was the pure mountain air, and the tread of the horse's hoofs on the cool, soft grass. Cleopatra seemed to share her pretty mistress's intense enjoyment. She tossed her proud head and started off in a brisk canter. "How about the mission?" asked the Colonel presently. "Oh, papa, I'm such an idle thing, I want an object in life." "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might," said the Colonel. "But my hand doesn't find anything to do except amusement papa, and that, unfortunately for me, comes easily enough." 66 "Grey is coming next week, Horatia, and James Forryst: you will have to forget yourself, and amuse them." Difficult task indeed-so far as Horatia is concerned. But Grey will not find me improved. I fear I am growing vapid like those fair Londoners we saw so much of in spring. Aunt Bessie thought their manners the very pink of perfection—I call them all pieces of inanity, Georgina especially. Oh, papa, I thought we were enjoying a delicious solitude, but look, there are two pedestrians." "Ay, so there are," said the Colonel, putting up his eyeglass; "why, I declare, 'tis your friend of Sunday, Laura." "Yes," said Laura with a beating heart, as she recognized St. Erle's bold, free, manly step, and the two ends of black ribbon fluttering at the back of his Scotch cap. She reined in her somewhat refractory steed, but just then, Cleopatra, either from the exhilarating effect of the bracing air, or from the sudden apparition of a third and fourth object on the silent, dreary moorland, commenced a series of rather alarming antics, rearing and plunging violently. Laura kept her seat bravely, but ere Colonel Maxwell had time to dismount, St. Erle sprang forward, and seized the bit with a firm, powerful hold. "Thank you," said Laura with a little laugh, and a very heightened colour. "Your assistance was timely, sir," said Colonel Maxwell gratefully; "you had a narrow escape, lassie; in another minute you would have been thrown." "I don't think so, papa; Cleopatra has never conquered me before." "I fear she is as capricious as her namesake," said St. Erle, still holding the animal's mouth with a strong, decided grasp, “and that I and my brother were the innocent cause of her most unreasonable behaviour Laura glanced at the long, graceful young man bearing the name of Amos, who had just launched into a brisk conversation with Colonel Maxwell. 'It was fun," she said, turning again to St. Erle, and stooping to stroke Cleopatra's glossy neck; "I am glad to see you appreciate these beautiful moors; so few people really do." "I am certainly one of the few then. In all my wanderings, I never so truly enjoyed anything, as I have done my walk this morning. See the soft silver light over that ridge of hills, and those white clouds fleeting like ghosts over the sky. Oh, it is a bright, beautiful day." |