It was a simple, although, as far as I was concerned, not a flattering narrative. Biddy had commenced an equestrian novitiate under the tutelage of Lieutenant Hastings. Her progress in the art of horsemanship was, no doubt, very satisfactory, and the pupil and the professor frequently rode out _tête-à-tête_. Biddy, poor soul! was fearful of exhibiting any _mal-addresse_, and of course, roads less frequented than the king's highway were generally chosen for her riding lessons. Gradually these excursions became more extensive; twilight, and in summer too, often fell, before the quartermaster's heiress had returned; and on one unfortunate occasion she was absent for a week. This caused as desperate commotion in the town; the dowagers and old maids sat in judgment on the case, and declared Biddy no longer visitable. In vain her absence was ascribed to accident--a horse had run away--she was thrown--her ankle sprained--and she was detained unavoidably at a country inn until the injury was abated. In this state of things the dragoons were ordered off; and it was whispered that there had been a desperate blow-up between the young lady's preceptor the lieutenant, and her papa the quartermaster. Once only had Biddy ventured out upon the mall; but she was cut dead by her quondam acquaintances. From that day she seldom appeared abroad; and when she did, it was always in the evening, and even then closely muffled up. No wonder scandal was rife touching the causes of her seclusion. A few charitably ascribed it to bad health--others to disappointment--but the greater proportion of the fair sex attributed her confinement to the true cause, and whispered that Miss MacGawly was "as ladies wished to be who love their lords." Here was a solution to the mystery! It was now pretty easy to comprehend why Biddy was swathed like a mummy, and Roger so ready with his cash. No wonder the _demoiselle_ was anxious to abridge delay, and the old crimp so obliging in procuring a priest and preparing all requisite matters or immediate hymeneals. What was to be done? What, but denounce the frail fair one, and annihilate that villain her father. Without a word or explanation I caught up my hat, and left the house in a hurry, and Mrs. O'Finn in a state of nervousness that threatened to become hysterical. When I reached the quartermaster's habitation, I hastened to my own apartment, and got my traps together in double-quick. I intended to have abdicated quietly, and favoured the intended Mrs. O'Shaughnessy with an epistle communicating the reasons that induced me to decline the honour of her hand; but on the landing my worthy father-in-law cut off my retreat, and a parting _tête-a-tête_ became unavoidable. He appeared in great spirits at the success of his interview with the parson.