In all Cecil's acquaintance with the master of Pevenshall, she had never heard him laugh so heartily, or give any such evidence of high spirits. She had just time enough to see what manner of person the lady was when the two riders had passed and were gone. The stout men on the tired horses followed. They were two of the Pevenshall visitors who talked "money-market" with Mr. Lobyer, and one of them espied Florence. He lifted his hat, and saluted her as he passed, with abject confusion visible in every line of his countenance. Young ladies who put "toppers" upon conversation may be very agreeable, but a man who devotes himself to their society is apt to expose himself to the chances of rather awkward encounters. "Doant yon lassie make Tom Lobyer's money spin?" said the gaffer. "Dick Stanner tould me as young Lobyer bought yon mare in York after t' last soommer reaces, and gave close upon fower hundred pound for her. And they say as the bay hoonter she staked at the early part of the winter cost nigh upon as mooch. I think t' ould gentleman would turn in his grave if he could know th' dooks and drakes th' yoong'un is making of his brass." "Is that lady in the white hat Mrs. Lobyer?" asked a country woman. "Loard bless ye heart, no, missis--no more than you be. But I'll tell you what she is. She's Mr. Lobyer's master. Dick Stanner, one of the grooms at Howden, he tould me all about her. She lives at Manchester, she does, most of her time. Miss de Raymond they call her; but she comes over to Chiverley in the hoonting season. She's got a house they call a willer, outside Manchester, and keeps her brougham. Dick Stanner had a friend as lived coachman with her, but he said she was such a wild cat in her tantrums, he wouldn't have stayed in her service for ten pound a-week. She'd been a regular out and outer up in London, Dick says, and had helped to ruin as rich a man as young Lobyer. He picked her up in town, and Dick says he's more afraid of a black look from her than----" Florence whipped her ponies sharply, and they started off at a pace which startled the little group of country people. She had heard quite enough in those three minutes during which she had listened almost involuntarily to the gaffer's discourse. Cecil had laid her hand upon her friend's arm entreatingly when the old man mentioned Mr. Lobyer's name, but Flo sat quite still with her eyes fixed on the speaker, and was not to be aroused from the kind of stupor that had seized her at sight of the bold red-and-white-faced woman riding by her husband's side.