George, in his surprise, drew himself upright on his horse. "My father here! Is he, indeed?" "Yes; and on horseback. Very unwise of him; but he would not be persuaded out of it. It was a sudden resolution that he appeared to take. I suppose the beauty of the morning tempted him. Miss Maria Hastings, what nonsense has George been saying to you? Your face is as red as his coat." "That is what I was saying to her," laughed George Godolphin. "Asking her where her cheeks had borrowed their roses from." A parting of the crowd brought Sir George Godolphin within view, and the family drew together in a group. Up went Lady Godolphin's glass again. "Is that Bessy? My dear, with whom did you come?" "I came by myself, Lady Godolphin. I walked." "Oh dear!" uttered Lady Godolphin. "You do do the wildest things, Bessy! And Sir George allows you to do them!" "Sir George does not," spoke the knight. "Sir George has already desired her to take her place in the carriage. Open the door, James." Bessy laughed as she stepped into it. She cheerfully obeyed her father; but anything like ceremony, or, as the world may call it, etiquette, she waged war with. "I expected to meet your sisters here, Bessy," said Lady Godolphin. "I want you all to dine with me to-day. We must celebrate the first reappearance of your father. You will bear the invitation to them." "Certainly," said Bessy. "We shall be happy to come. I know Janet has no engagement." "An early dinner, mind: five o'clock. Sir George cannot wait." "To dine at supper-time," chimed in unfashionable Bessy. "George, do you hear? Lady Godolphin's at five." A movement; a rush; a whirl. The hounds were preparing to throw off, and the field was gathering. George Godolphin hastily left the side of Miss Hastings, though he found time for a stolen whisper. "Fare you well, my dearest." And when she next saw him, after the noise and confusion had cleared away, he was galloping in the wake of the baying pack, side by side with Charlotte Pain. CHAPTER II. LADY GODOLPHIN'S FOLLY. Prior's Ash was not a large town, though of some importance in county estimation. In the days of the monks, when all good people were Roman Catholics, or professed to be, it had been but a handful of houses, which various necessities had caused to spring up round the priory: a flourishing and crowded establishment of religious men then; a place marked but by a few ruins now. In process of time the handful of houses had increased to several handfuls, the handfuls to a village, and the village to a borough town; still retaining the name bestowed on it by the monks--"Prior's Ash."