Her natural good spirits often got the upper hand of her burden of discontent, and when all the house-party started for the meet at Mr Jackson's place, Beechgrove, in a bright sparkling morning under brown trees and blue sky, amid golden and tawny ferns and ruddy hedgerows, she enjoyed herself as if she had never known a care. The red coats, the dogs, and the horses, the noise and the bustle of a hunting morning were delightful to her, and she had never looked more blooming and full of life than when she went into the house at Beechgrove to breakfast, followed by Una. Mrs Jackson received the two handsome young strangers pleasantly, and called to her son to come and wait on them and take care of them. "As you have nothing else to do, Wilfred," she said smiling. Young Mr Jackson was pale and very lame, and it was explained that he was only just getting over a bad accident which had invalided him for some time. "Stopped all my fun in the Rocky Mountains, Miss Haredale," he said, "where I had gone on the jolliest trip, and I mustn't ride all this winter. Hard lines, isn't it?" "Very hard," said Amethyst, feeling that the accident in the Rocky Mountains was not quite new to her, though she could not recall how she had heard of it. "Have you heard of poor Leigh lately, Jackson?" said another young man across the table. "Oh, yes," said Wilfred Jackson, with sudden gravity. "Riddell, his friend, who has been with him, you know, wrote to me yesterday. He is better, and able to walk a little, and they have got away from Edinburgh and down to Bournemouth. I believe he is to go abroad for the winter. It has been a frightful business." "Were you with Mr Leigh in the Rocky Mountains? He is a neighbour of ours at Cleverley," said Amethyst. "Ah, you know him? Yes, and I spoiled his trip by getting my back hurt. He gave it up to look after me. Never was such a good fellow. I can't take in the idea of his being helpless and ill himself." "But you are having better accounts of him. I never heard exactly how he was hurt?" "Nor I, in detail. He fell over the cliffs in the Orkneys. There was some internal strain which has caused frightful suffering, and besides, one of the ribs, which were broken, pierced the lungs so that he cannot breathe, or speak, without pain. They brought him back to Edinburgh in his yacht, where his mother met him. He is wonderfully patient and plucky, Riddell says--that he was sure to be. They are very anxious, but I can't help hoping and thinking--don't you, Miss Haredale?--that any fellow so young and strong _must_ get over it. I was very bad last summer, and I shall soon be right again now."