They parted; Griffith rode to Bolton; and Kate rode home.
It was past dinner-time. She ran upstairs, and hurried on her best gown and her diamond comb. For she began to quake now at the prank she had played with her guest's horse: and Nature taught her that the best way to soften censure is—to be beautiful.
—on pardonne tout aux belles.
And certainly she was passing fair; and queenly with her diamond comb.
She came down-stairs, and was received by her father; he grumbled at being kept waiting for dinner.
Kate easily appeased the good-natured Squire, and then asked what had become of Mr. Neville.
"Oh, he is gone long ago: remembered, all of a sudden, he had promised to dine with a neighbor."
Kate shook her head skeptically, but said nothing. But a good minute after, she inquired, "How did he go? on foot?"
The Squire did not know.
After dinner old Joe sought an interview, and was admitted into the dining-room: