They paid their visit. Mrs. Vesey was a young married woman, with four or five small children, who very much occupied her time and thoughts. The conversation was chiefly made up of things which Johnny and Matilda had said; of the quarrel which Harry had with the nurse, and the beautiful cake which uncle Richard had sent to Mary on her birthday. Then the children were produced, in velvet frocks, and long trained ringlets of white hair, and these having been kissed and praised enough, the two friends took their leave. "Ah, that is over!" said Harriet, when they rode off, "I like children well enough, Margaret, to make hay with, or play at blindman's buff; but I always long to pinch those little dressed up dolls. If Lucy should have any olive branches, I shall make them as rude and as natural as possible." "How soft the wind is," said Margaret, "it is often colder than this in summer." It was certainly a mild day for November. Although the twilight was coming on, there was nothing chilly in the air. The wind drove slowly before it large floating masses of grey clouds; the leafless trees rocked majestically to and fro in the dim light; and the scent of the air, and of the fallen leaves was soft and refreshing. Before they had gone very far they were overtaken by Mr. Gage and Mr. Humphries, who were returning from hunting. "Well--oh! now--come!" exclaimed Mr. Humphries, who was sometimes troubled with incoherence, "how glad I am that we came home this way." "It is, indeed, a very fortunate circumstance," said Mr. Gage, addressing himself pointedly to Margaret, "I hope you will really value our escort now that it is growing so dark." "Yes, it is a lonely road about here," said Mr. Humphries, closing up to Harriet. "I never am afraid of anything," said Harriet, "but I am glad of your company, because I wish to know what sort of a run you had." Mr. Humphries was very much enlivened by this demand upon his descriptive powers. By the aid of a very few words, and a great many extraordinary gestures, he conveyed to Harriet the information she desired. Mr. Gage, looking the very impersonation of injured pride, suffered them to take the lead, and then riding up close to Margaret, and laying his hand affectionately on the mane of her horse, he exerted all his powers to make himself agreeable. He was intent on persuading Margaret to ride some day to the place where the hunters met. It was a very gay scene on a fine morning, and would make a pleasant change for her. Although nobody could disapprove more strongly than he did, a lady following the hounds, yet just to ride to cover, and go quietly home again, he thought quite feminine, and perfectly allowable.