'A run with the hounds on Cadbury's horses?' he interrupted, with a slight quiver, 'but I dislike the risks you run, and the chance medley acquaintances you may meet; but pardon my petulance, darling; and now to dress for dinner, such as it is.' Too well did Alison know that one of the acquaintances referred to was her late handsome escort; but she only said-- 'I do love horses, and you remember, papa, how grieved you were when I had to relinquish, as a little girl, my dear old Shetland pony, Pepper, and you called me your "poor bankrupt child;" and I did so miss Pepper with his barrel-shaped body, his shaggy mane, and velvet nose that he used to rub against my neck till I gave him a carrot or an apple.' 'Hence, I am the more grateful to Cadbury for so kindly putting his horses at your disposal; but for him,' added Sir Ranald, forgetting his recent remark, 'you could not have been in your proper place with the buckhounds, or shared in the pleasures of the day. Of course you wince when I mention Cadbury,' said Sir Ranald, observing a cloudy expression flit over her face. 'Well, papa, he bores me.' 'Bores you? This is scarcely grateful after all the pleasure he puts at your disposal--his horses, his box at the opera, and the bouquets, music, and so forth he so frequently sends you.' But Alison only shrugged her shoulders, while her father retired to change his costume; for either by force of old habit, or out of respect for himself, he always assumed evening dress (faded though it was) for dinner; albeit that the latter might consist of a little better than hashed mutton or scrag of mutton _à la Russe_, in which the housekeeper, Mrs. Rebecca Prune, excelled. 'I wish he would not talk to me so much of Lord Cadbury,' thought Alison; 'if his kindness is to be received in this fashion, I shall never accept a mount from him again, nor a piece of music either!' In the few joyous hours she had spent--hours which the presence of Bevil Goring had, undoubtedly, served to brighten--Alison Cheyne had forgotten for a space the petty annoyances of her home life; its shifts and shams that often made her weary and sick at heart; her father's pride and frequent petulance; his constant repining at the present, and futile regret over the past; his loss of position, or rather of luxury and splendour, which the loss of fortune entailed. CHAPTER III. ELLON'S RING.