"I taught music to the Miss Morisons, who lived next door to Mr. Guyon, during two seasons," said Hester simply; "and as they seized upon every conceivable opportunity for neglecting their lessons, they made it a point to rush to the windows to see Miss Guyon going out to ride, and I never could resist the temptation of looking out with them. I like to see a woman on horseback who looks and rides as she does. I am not sure that I did not envy the gay cavalcade sometimes, when I used to see them set off, and had to turn to 'one, two, three, four--pray attend to your fingering,' and so forth, again." "You will have horses in town too, Hester, won't you?" said Ellen; "and have cavalcades on your own account, and gallant cavaliers to escort you, as Katharine had?" "I am not so sure of that," said Hester demurely; "the Morison girls, who were very slang, used to talk about Miss Guyon's escort being always the 'best' men in London; and there was a Mr. Frere--her cousin, is he not?--whom they used to admire almost as enthusiastically as they admired her. Caroline, who was horribly silly, used to quote Tennyson's 'Guinevere' as they went by the windows: very appropriate to a London street, was it not?" "Look, look, Hester!" said Ellen, jumping up in the carriage, "there's the first glimpse of Middlemeads;" and then the young lady occupied herself with pointing out every detail of the approach, until the carriage passed under the arch and drew up at the entrance, where Katharine was standing in the open doorway, pleased to gratify her sister-in-law to the utmost by the demonstrative kindness of her reception of Miss Gould. "We were in capital time, Katharine," said Ellen, as the three ladies passed through the hall, "and had a delightful drive, hadn't we, Robert? O, he's gone off to the library, I suppose."