"I beg to hint to all Equestrian Misses That horses' backs are not their proper place; A woman's forte is music--love--or kisses, Not leaping gates, or galloping a race; I sometimes used to ride with them of yore, And always found them an infernal bore." Ascribed to LORD BYRON. It was the morning of the first meet of the South Sussex Hunt, and in spite of the humble status of that same hunt among sporting folk, the whole neighbourhood was in an agreeable state of excitement. Even in a country district where hunting plays a subordinate part in the local life, the first meet of the season is always made the occasion for a great gathering. There had been a time when it had taken place on the lawn of Chancton Priory, and the open-handed hospitality of that Squire Rebell who had been Madame Sampiero's father was still regretfully remembered by the older members of the S.S.H. Nowadays the first meet was held at a place known locally as Whiteways, which, though close to no hospitable house, had the advantage of proximity to the town of Halnakeham, being situated just outside the furthest gate of the park stretching behind Halnakeham Castle. Whiteways was a singularly beautiful and desolate spot, forming the apex of a three-sided hill commanding an amazing view of uplands and lowlands, and reached by various steep ways, cut through the chalk, which gave the place its name, and which circled ribbon-wise round the crest of the down, the highest of the long range which there guards the coasts of Sussex. General Kemp had taken to hunting in his old age, and though in theory he disapproved of hunting women, in practice he often allowed his daughter many a happy hour with the hounds, although she had to be contented with the sturdy pony, "warranted safe to ride and drive," a gift from Captain Laxton to Mrs. Kemp. * * * * * At the Grange breakfast was just over. The General looking his best--so Mrs. Kemp assured herself with wifely pride--in his white riding breeches and grey coat, stood by the window of the pretty room opening out on to the lawn. "I think it's time you went up and dressed, Lucy. You know it's a good way to Whiteways, and we don't want the horses blown." Lucy looked up obediently from a letter she was reading, "Yes, father, I'll go up at once. It won't take me long to dress." The girl would have given much to have been allowed to stay at home. But she knew that her doing so would probably mean the giving up on the part of her mother of one of the few local festivities which Mrs. Kemp heartily enjoyed. Even more, Lucy feared her father's certain surprise and disappointment, followed, after the first expression of these feelings, by one of those ominous silences, those tender questioning glances she had come to look for and to dread.