As he came around a bend in the road, he saw four women riding toward him, and as they drew near, he saw that they were Lady Violet Weatherbone and her three daughters. These young ladies were known as the Three Guardsmen, a sobriquet not wholly inappropriate; for, as Lord Frederic described them, they were “big-boned, upstanding fillies,” between twenty-five and thirty and very hard goers across any country, and always together. “Good morning,” said Mr. Carteret, bowing. “I suppose the hounds are close by?” It was a natural assumption, as Lady Violet on hunting days was never very far from the hounds. “I do not know,” she responded, and her tone further implied that she did not care. Mr. Carteret hesitated a moment. “Is anything the matter?” he asked. “Has anything happened?” “Yes,” said Lady Violet frankly, “something has happened.” Here the daughters modestly turned their horses away. “Some one,” continued Lady Violet, “brought savages to the meet.” She paused impressively. “Not really!” said Mr. Carteret. It was all that he could think of to say. “Yes,” said Lady Violet, “and while it would have mattered little to me, it was impossible--” She motioned with her head toward the three maidens, and paused. “Forgive me,” said Mr. Carteret, “but do I quite understand?” “At the first I thought,” said Lady Violet, “that they were attired in painted fleshings, but upon using my glass, it was clear that I was mistaken. Otherwise, I should have brought them away at the first moment.” “I see,” said Mr. Carteret. “It is most unfortunate!” “It is, indeed!” said Lady Violet; “but the matter will not be allowed to drop. They were brought to the meet by that young profligate, Lord Frederic Westcote.” “You amaze me,” said Mr. Carteret. He bowed, started his horse, and jogged along for five minutes, then he turned to the right upon a crossroad and suddenly found himself with hounds. They were feathering excitedly about the mouth of a tile drain into which the fox had evidently gone. No master, huntsmen or whips were in sight, but sitting wet and mud-daubed upon horses dripping with muddy water were Grady dressed in cowboy costume and three naked Indians. Mr. Carteret glanced about over the country and understood. They had swum the brook at the place where it ran between steep clay banks and the rest of the field had gone around to the bridge. As he looked toward the south, he saw Lord Ploversdale riding furiously toward him followed by Smith, the huntsman. Grady had not recognized Mr. Carteret turned out in pink as he was, and for the moment the latter decided to remain incognito.