"Emily, of course! a wayward gentle puss who never shows her claws!" and at that moment Emily entered the room, and advanced towards Prescott with frank smile and outstretched hand.
Luncheon passed off pleasantly enough. The old gentleman rattled on incessantly, and availed himself of Prescott's presence, and Mrs. Wilmslow's distracted attention consequent thereupon, to take three bumpers of dry sherry, instead of that one half-glass to which, by doctor's orders, he was so strictly relegated. Mrs. Wilmslow was thoroughly charmed with Prescott, led him on to talk of his home-life, of his office friends, and seemed to regard him with real interest. Emily was less talkative than she had been the previous evening, and seldom looked up from the table; but she joined readily in the conversation, and none were too pleased when the horses were announced.
"Got a horse, Jim?" asked the Squire. "That's right! hope it'll carry you all right, though one never knows any thing about these hired hacks. You might have ridden the cob, if I'd known you'd been coming earlier! This is his third day's rest, and the cob will be about as fresh as paint when I get across him again. Not that I care much for your Rotten-Row riding--dull work that, up and down, up and down! The Vicar and I--we used to go to work in a little more business-like fashion than that! I suppose he never gets a day's run now? Ah! thought not! Those spinning-jenny locals would think it unprofessional for a parson to follow hounds, eh? There, bless you, pussy! good-by, child! and good-by to you, young Jim! Call here again in a day or two, and we'll settle about your coming to Havering in the vacation--and the Vicar too, d'ye hear?"
"I'm getting rather nervous about my responsibility, Miss Murray," said Prescott, as they passed through into the hall. "I don't think I've forgotten my old knack of mounting. You needn't fear my not lifting you high enough, or jerking you over the side, I mean; but I've never seen your amazonship yet, and if any thing should happen--"
"Oh, don't fear that, James--Mr. Prescott, I mean!" said Emily with a clear ringing laugh. "You'll mount me rightly enough, I know: and as for looking after me afterwards, I forgot to tell you my riding-mistress would be with us."
"Your riding-mistress!" but as he spoke, the footman threw open the street-door; and the first thing that met his glance was a well-known figure sitting erect on a black thoroughbred. Kate Mellon! no one else. James Prescott had watched too often the rounded outline of that compact figure, the fall of that dark-blue skirt, the pose of that neat little chimney-pot hat, under which the gold-shot hair was massed in a clump behind, not to recognise them all at the first glance. Kate Mellon, by all that was marvellous! Two young ladies, also mounted, were with her; and a groom was leading another horse, with a side-saddle on it for Emily Murray, and another groom was leading the very presentable hack which Prescott had engaged from Allen's. As she caught sight of Prescott, Kate gave one little scarcely-perceptible start, and then saluted Miss Murray with uplifted whip. Prescott swung Emily to her saddle, and the cavalcade started.
"You see I have brought a cavalier, Miss Mellon," said Emily, with a smile; "though I don't know whether such an encumbrance is permissible; but this is Mr. Prescott, whom I have known for a very long time. James, this is Miss Mellon, who is good enough to superintend my clumsiness on horseback, and who is the very star of horsewomen herself."
Kate started a little at the "James," but merely repeated the whip salutation, and said, "Mr. Prescott and I have met before, Miss Murray. Besides, you're coming it too strong about yourself! you're quite able to take care of yourself now, and have no clumsiness left, whatever you might have had at first. This has relieved me of some of my charge; for these two young ladies will want all my eyes, and another to spare, if I had it. Perhaps you'll not mind my riding forward with them, and you and Mr. Prescott can follow us; you're both of you to be trusted--with your horses, I mean!" and she smiled shortly, and cantering on, joined the anonymous young ladies in front.
You see it is perfectly right to tell a man who is desperately smitten with you that he is on the wrong tack; that though you have a great regard for him as a friend, you cannot reciprocate his love-passion; and that the whole affair is ill-judged, and should properly be put a stop to at once. But when you come upon him suddenly, within three weeks, evidently consoling himself by dangling at the heels of another woman--well, there is something provoking in it, to say the least! Kate Mellon was thoroughly honest during all that last interview with Prescott in Rotten Row, but she scarcely expected this.
So they rode on in two divisions; and the young ladies in front, who were the daughters of a picture-dealer who had recently risen from nothing, and who were in the greatest state of fright at the unaccustomed exercise, were surprised to find a tone of asperity at first tinging their mistress's instructions at being told of their rounded shoulders and their heavy hands, in far plainer terms than had been hitherto employed. But this severity gradually subsided as they went on, and as Kate thought to herself how all was for the best, and how, instead of being annoyed, she ought to do every thing she could to help the fortunes of one who had been so staunchly gallant to her, until he was repulsed. As for the couple behind, they got on splendidly; Emily looked to the greatest advantage on horseback; and Prescott could scarcely take his eyes from her as he watched the graceful manner in which she sat her horse, and as he listened to the encomiastic remarks which her appearance extracted from the passers-by. He talked to her of the old days, and she answered without an ounce of coquetry or affectation; and she spoke of her father, of her happiness in her home, of the little simple duties and pleasures in their village, and of other little suchlike matters, in an honest way that touched James Prescott deeply, and sent purer, calmer thoughts into his heart than had found lodging there for many months.