Sabrina turned a half-reproachful look on her tormentor, but without making reply. "You needn't answer," the other went on. "_My_ arithmetic's right, and the problem's solved, or will be, by the gentleman spoken of making his appearance any time this day, or--Why, bless me! Yonder he is now, I do believe." The exclamatory phrase had reference to a horseman seen riding down the road so narrowly watched; though the speaker was not the first to see him. He had been already sighted by Sabrina, and it was the flash of excitement in her eyes that guided those of her sister. The horseman had not all the road to himself; another coming on behind, but at such short distance as to tell of companionship--that of master and servant. He ahead was undoubtedly a gentleman, as evinced by the bright colour of his dress, with its silken gloss under the sunlight, and the glitter of arms and accoutrements; while the more soberly-attired rider in the rear was evidently a groom or body servant. As the girls stood regarding, the look in the eyes of the elder, at first satisfied and joyous, began gradually to change. The distance was too great for the identification of either face or figure. All that could be distinguished was that they were men on horseback, with the general hue of their habiliments, and the sparkle of arms and ornaments. It was just these--their brightness and splendour--as affected the foremost of the two, which had brought the change over Sabrina's countenance. Sir Richard Walwyn was not wont to dress gaudily, but rather the reverse. Still, time had elapsed since she last saw him. He had been abroad, in the Low Countries, and with Gustavus of Sweden, battling for the good cause. The foreign fashions may have changed his ideas about dress and its adornments. But little cared she for that so long as his heart was unchanged; and that it was so she knew by the letter which had betrayed her own heart's secret to her sister. Almost simultaneously upon Vaga's features appeared a change too--almost expressing doubt. It became certainty on the instant after, still another replacing it, as she again exclaimed, contradicting herself-- "Bless me, no! That's Reginald Trevor." CHAPTER SIX. A CAVALIER IN LOVE. Reginald Trevor it was, for Vaga was not guessing. Something she saw about the horseman, or his horse, had enabled her to identify him; as she did so, that third and latest change coming over her countenance, giving it also a serious cast.