The next morning, at an early hour, the horses were brought to the door, and Mr Aslatt, Rose, and I started for Ashdene. Rose had made no further opposition to the expedition, and there was no trace of vexation on her lovely face as we rode off. She looked remarkably well in her riding costume. The close-fitting habit of dark-blue cloth shewed to advantage the exquisite symmetry of her figure; and the little velvet hat, whose sole ornament was a heron’s plume, was very becoming to the fair face. She was an accomplished rider, and controlled admirably, without the least appearance of effort, the spirited movements of the beautiful animal she rode. It was a bright May morning, and the ride was most enjoyable. About noon we reached the little town of Ashdene, where we dismounted; and after partaking of some luncheon at the hotel, proceeded to view the ruins of the old Priory. Here we found so much to interest us that the afternoon was far advanced before we were ready to return. As we were walking our horses up a hill not very far from home, I saw a young man coming towards us dressed in a gray tweed suit. As he came into view, Mr Aslatt urged his horse into a canter; but Rose checked hers as it quickened its pace, and said reproachfully: ‘The horses are tired, cousin; we must not hurry them up this hill.’ As the young man drew near, he raised his hat. ‘Good afternoon, Hammond,’ said Mr Aslatt, rather stiffly I thought. How it happened I don’t know, but just then Rose dropped her riding-whip, and it fell within a few feet of Mr Hammond. He picked it up in a moment, and handed it to the young lady, who thanked him most graciously, and even bent down from her saddle to shake hands with him. ‘I was so sorry to be absent from my post to-day, Mr Hammond,’ she said; ‘but we were tempted to take advantage of this fine day for a ride to Ashdene.’ ‘It was a great disappointment to the scholars not to see you,’ he replied; ‘but they have no cause to complain, for it is so seldom you are absent. I think you are if possible too devoted to their welfare.’ ‘That is my opinion too, Mr Hammond,’ interrupted my employer; ‘and you must not be surprised if for the future you do not see Miss Sinclair so frequently at the school.’ ‘I trust that will not be the case,’ exclaimed Rose indignantly. ‘I see no necessity for changing my habits.’ She looked quite angry as she spoke, and I felt sorry for Mr Aslatt, he seemed so agitated. Mr Hammond smiled complacently at Rose’s remark, and there was something almost supercilious in his manner as he bade Mr Aslatt ‘Good afternoon;’ but the bow and parting glance he bestowed upon his ward were most deferential in their admiring homage. As we pursued our way in silence, the expression of Rose’s face plainly shewed that she considered herself injured.