"Yes," said Ellerton, who was excellent in chorus. "Yes, there is no doubt he'll have the stables emptied in five minutes, if you want a ride." Phil bit his lip, as Josephine, with a very conscious look, sprang up, saying, "Absurd! It's only because you are afraid to ask yourselves that you want me to go." And with a coquettish shrug of the shoulders, and a very arch laugh, she ran through the hall and disappeared at the library door. In a few moments she reappeared, and accompanied by Mr. Rutledge, joined us on the piazza. There was a subdued tone of triumph in her voice as she said, "The horses will be at the door in five minutes, good people, not a moment to be lost. Who is going?" "I am sorry," said Mr. Rutledge, "that there are but two horses fit for the ladies' use. There are enough, however, for all the gentlemen. Mr. Viennet, you will find that chestnut mare you were admiring yesterday, very good under the saddle." Victor bowed, and, looking at me, said, "What do you ride?" "I do not mean to ride this afternoon," I said quickly. "Come, Ella!" exclaimed Josephine, "it will take us some minutes to put on our habits," and the two friends flew upstairs. Mr. Rutledge approaching me, said in a low tone, "Will you lend Madge to your cousin or Miss Wynkar if you do not ride yourself?" "It is a matter of very small moment to me who rides Madge," I returned haughtily. "You cannot imagine that I attach any serious meaning to the jest of last fall." "That's as you will," he said, carelessly turning away. I had no desire to see the equestrians set off, so going into the hall for my garden hat and a light shawl, I was stealing quietly out at the north door, when on the threshold I met Mr. Rutledge and Grace, who had come around the piazza and were just entering. "Where are you going?" said that young person inquisitively. "I have not quite made up my mind," I answered, trying to pass her. "You're going to walk, and I have a great mind to go with you," she said, intercepting my exit. "You will excuse me for saying I had rather not have you," I returned shortly. "Sweet pet! Its temper don't improve," she said provokingly. "You are an insufferable child," I exclaimed, vexed beyond endurance, and, pushing her aside, I hurried through the doorway. But the fringe of her shawl caught in the bracelet on my arm, and, much against my will, I had to turn back to release it. Grace enjoyed my vexation unspeakably, and did not assist very materially in unfastening the fringe, which, if the truth must be told, was a very difficult task for my trembling and impatient fingers. The touch of Mr. Rutledge's cold, steady hand on my arm, as he stooped to help me, added tenfold to my impatience. "Break it," I exclaimed, "you'll never be able to untangle it." "Oh that mysterious bracelet!" cried Grace. "You'd never tell me where it came from."