By the time that Letty was all right again, George had, by repeated trials with a curb bridle and martingale, ascertained that the mare was perfectly manageable. It was clear that so long as she was prevented getting the full stretch of her neck and head, she would make no attempt at running away with her rider. George rode her daily, and tried her in all ways, and pronounced her safe as a rocking-horse, or a rocking-chair. Letty ere long mounted her again, though amid much nervous terror of all the women at the Grange, and found her most obedient to the hand, and became much attached to her. The incidents of this chapter had, however, shown that the feeling of antagonism in the Rockville party to our friends of Hillmartin, Woodburn, and one or two other houses, had intensified itself to a dangerous degree. CHAPTER III. AN ADVENT AND AN EXIT. The visit of Elizabeth Drury at Woodburn Grange was a short time of mutual endearment—one in which true souls and genial natures recognise and draw near to each other. It would be difficult to say which of the family came to love her most, or which of them she came to love most; yet, if there was a deeper, more sympathetic feeling, it was betwixt their guest and George and Ann. George Woodburn looked on Elizabeth Drury as the perfect ideal of womanhood. Her graceful and cheerful form, her bright and enjoying nature, her clear intelligence and sunny spirits, were his increasing admiration. Betwixt Ann and Miss Drury close and confidential conversations revealed the kinship of their tastes, and their deep aspirations after the same intellectual and sacred objects. They made discoveries of thought and feeling which created in them a sisterhood. But scarcely less did Mr. and Mrs. Woodburn and Letty affectionately estimate their guest, or she them—the warm-heartedness of Mrs. Woodburn, the sterling character of Mr. Woodburn, the joyous impulsiveness of Letty.