They had reached the cross roads and the little cluster of country people by this time; and Flo's ponies, which had been driven at a good pace by that young lady, were by no means disinclined to draw breath. The country people within a few paces of the carriage looked at the two ladies. One old gaffer touched his hat, and a woman dropped a curtsey; but this was only the ordinary deferential greeting given to unknown "quality." The lady in the pony carriage was not recognised as the mistress of Pevenshall Place. Gorse Common was just a little outside the radius within which the influence of Pevenshall reigned supreme. The red-coats were riding at a leisurely pace, and their horses gave evidence of having done a good day's work. Flo had not drawn up her ponies three minutes when the huntsmen and the lady reached the cross-roads. There were four hunts-men--two stout middle-aged men, whose tired horses straggled in the rear, and a young man who rode abreast with the lady by his side. It was upon this lady that the little cluster of villagers and the two friends in the pony carriage, as if by common consent, concentrated their attention. She was a very handsome lady--of the red-and-white school; very red and very white--in spite of a little blowsiness incidental to a hard day's hunting; she had a great deal of hair; and if some of the voluminous tresses, which had escaped from a chenille net and had fallen loose on her shoulders, did not quite correspond in shade, it was the fault of her hairdresser. She had bold black eyebrows, and a bush of frizzled ringlets plastered very low upon her forehead; so low, indeed, that there was scarcely any thing between the eyebrows and the frizzy hair. Her habit fitted her exquisitely--if possible, just a little too exquisitely--and there was more braid about it than is compatible with the strictest pureism in the ethics of costume. She wore a white chimney-pot hat, with a black veil, and a stand-up collar of the most masculine type, and the stand-up collar was fastened with one very large diamond--a diamond which Florence remembered as the fastening of Mr. Lobyer's collar when he had first attended the Sunday evenings at the Fountains. The lady was talking very loudly to the gentleman who rode by her side as they passed the pony carriage, and neither the gentleman nor the lady appeared to observe the grey ponies or their owner. This was, perhaps, fortunate, inasmuch as the gentleman was Mr. Lobyer. He was laughing quite heartily at something his companion was saying, and had half turned in his saddle to speak to the two men behind. "Did you hear her?" he cried triumphantly. "Say what you will, she'll put a topper on it."