Ethel smiled faintly.
"Oh, my darling!" he burst out, triumphantly, delightedly, "you are mine! I have seen the earl this morning and he has given you to me."
They rode side by side, Bertie speaking of all his hopes and plans, she listening and drinking in the music of his voice.
Somehow or other they found themselves out of the Row and away to a secluded road, where there were no spectators.
Then Bertie took possession of the hand, and while he murmured soft, sweet words, as lovers can and will, he performed a feat of equestrianism which would have made him a worthy candidate for a circus, for with reckless daring he bent forward and actually snatched a kiss from the blushing but forgiving Ethel.
Then they rode home, happy, glowing, at peace with all the world, and as madly in love as any young couple in England.
"We shall meet to-night," said Bertie, "at Mrs. Mildmay's?"
"Yes," said Ethel, "to-night," and, though it was then one o'clock, "to-night" seemed as far off to her as the week after next.
Bertie left the horse at the Lacklands' stables and walked home to his chambers.
As he sat down at his table, his man entered with a letter.