“Mr. Henderson,” she said, looking down at him, “I owe you an apology. I was rude to you the other day, and I laughed at you when you told me this morning that you did not like my new horse. Events have proved that you were right. Will you forgive me?” “I have nothing to forgive,” he answered; “but you can have no idea how nervous I was this morning when I saw how that brute behaved.” “Why should you have bothered yourself about me?” she asked, not, however, with quite her usual confidence. Here was the very opportunity he had been looking for so long. He felt that he must take possession of it at once. “Because I love you,” he answered. “You must have known that I have been in love with you ever since I first saw you, Molly. Don’t you believe me?” “Yes, I know it,” she replied, looking at him with the love-light shining in her own eyes. “And your answer, Molly? What can you say to me?” “Only that I love you too,” she murmured. I do not know what my spinster readers will think, but the fact remains that the paddock they were crossing was a large one, some twenty acres in extent. It was almost in the centre of this open space that he proposed to her, and she, brazen creature, at his suggestion, I will admit, stooped from her saddle and permitted him to kiss her where all the world might see. It was between three and four o’clock that afternoon when Godfrey reached home. He had waited at the little village inn until the carriage, which he had sent for to convey her home, arrived from the Court. Then, when he had promised to ride over in the morning in order to interview her father, he watched her drive off and had afterward departed himself to his own abode. “Well, Godfrey, and what sort of a day have you had?” asked Miss Kitty, as they stood in the drawing-room before the fire. “Splendid,” he answered. “I was awfully cut up at one time, but on the whole it has been one of the best days in my life.” “You seem to have enjoyed it. Where did you find?” “At Churley Spinney,” he answered. “And you killed at----?” “I’m sure I don’t know,” was the reply. “How long did you run?” “I don’t know that either.” “You don’t seem to have been very observant. What _do_ you know?” “I only know that I am engaged to Molly Devereux. For the present that seems to me to be quite sufficient.” In a moment her arms were round his neck. “You dear boy, I can not tell you how thankful I am.” Nor was Mrs. Henderson’s pleasure the less sincere.