Mr. Lyddell lost his seat, and the boys were half mad, a hundred times more concerned than he was himself, while Marian moralized to herself on why it was allowed to happen that he should be set aside from public life, just when he would have begun to act on truly sound principles. And yet perhaps the leisure he thus obtained, and the seclusion from the whirl of politics were the very things he needed, to draw him entirely apart from the world which had so long engrossed him. It was about sis weeks after this that Mr. and Mrs. Edmund Arundel, in acceptance of a warm invitation from Mr. Lyddell, were driving along the white road leading to Oakworthy, after a very pleasant visit to the Marchmonts, when Selina had treated Agnes so affectionately, as to cause her to forget all past neglect, and had, as Edmund said, scaled their friendship, by raving at Marian's decision, "It was too bad," said she, "when they had given up London,--the only thing that made it tolerable." To which, however, Agnes did not quite agree. "And now," said she, "I shall see whether Marian is happy." "I don't believe you wish her to be so," said Edmund. "No, I am not quite so spiteful," rejoined Agnes, "but in order to forgive her, I must think it a very great sacrifice." "And have a marvellously high estimate of our two selves," said Edmund. "What do I see?" said Agnes. "Look at those two people riding on the down up there against the sky, don't you see their figures? It is a lady. Gould it be Marian? No, she is riding so close to the other--he can't be a servant." "Lionel, I suspect," said Edmund. "The poor blind boy! O surely she does not ride alone with him! O what a pretty cantering on the turf. It is really Marian, I see now. How I do like to see her ride." A moment or two more, and descending from the high green slope, the two riders were on the road meeting the carriage. Marian looked her best on horseback, with her excellent seat, and easy, fearless manner, her little hat and feathers became her fine features, and the air and exercise gave them animation, which made her more like a picture of Velasquez and less like a Grecian statue than she was at any other time. Lionel rode almost close to her, a bright glow of sunshine on his lively face, and a dexterity and quickness in his whole air that made Agnes hesitate for a second or two, whether he could really be the blind youth. A joyous "How d'ye do?" was called out on each side. "Well, Lionel," then said Edmund, "are you quite well?" "O yes, thank you," replied a gay voice, "we thought we would see if we could not meet you." "We rode over the down," said Marian, "and we are going back the same way. We shall be at home as soon as you are. Good-bye. To the right, Lionel."