There was a short silence. Then curiosity conquered the fit of indignation which Miss Hamilton had thought well to assume. "May I ask the name of the fortunate young lady?" "You may," I answered calmly, helping myself to toast. "It is little Lady Beatrice." She burst into a peal of laughter, but stopped suddenly. "What nonsense! Are you going to take the groom's place, then, and hold the leading-rein?" "If she rides with one, very likely," I answered. There was a short silence. Then Miss Hamilton returned to the charge. "How old is your inamorata?" she inquired. "Seven or eight?" "Twelve next birthday," I answered promptly. "It's quite too ridiculous!" she declared, tossing her head. "I really wanted you to come with me this morning, because you know the country," she added, with a sidelong glance from her dark eyes. "Nothing would have given me greater pleasure," I declared; "but a promise is a promise, you know, and we made this one before we knew any thing about the meet." "We! Who are we?" she asked quickly. "Cis and I." "Cecil won't go if I ask him to come with me," she said confidently. I shrugged my shoulders. "Perhaps not. The more reason why I should." She turned away from me half amused, half vexed. Just then Cecil appeared, and she beckoned him eagerly to her side. "Cecil, Mr. Morton tells me that you have promised to ride with Beatrice this morning," she said. "So we did," he exclaimed. "Awfully sorry to disappoint her, but, of course, I didn't know anything about the meet." "Oh, I am glad that you are not going to desert me, then," she said, laughing. "Mr. Morton declares that he is going to keep his engagement." "Very good of him, if he is," remarked Cecil, stirring his tea with great cheerfulness. "Don't pity me," I said, rising. "I'm sure I shall enjoy it. _Au revoir_, Miss Hamilton." And I did enjoy it. Many a time afterwards I thought of that slim little figure in the long riding-habit, her golden hair streaming in the breeze, and her dainty, flushed face aglow with excitement and delight, and of the pleasant prattle which her little ladyship poured into my willing ears. I remembered, too, her quaint, naïve ways, and the grave way in which she thanked me for taking care of her--little mannerisms which soon yielded to familiarity and vanished altogether. And, strange though it may seem, I found always more satisfaction in recalling these things than the winged look and merry speeches of Miss Agnes Hamilton. CHAPTER XL. MY MISSION.