"Oh! am I to believe that?"
"Why not? It is out of my line. Depend upon it, there is something in the atmosphere of a stable that impairs a man's brains, supposing he sets out in life with any; and the few I may possess are the only means of earning salt to my porridge. I have, therefore, always rather shunned four-footed animals. But that reason does not apply to you."
"Not exactly that reason; but it is equally out of my line. I mean hunting, for I am very fond of riding. It is very becoming to Harriet; but in me, it would be only an imitation, and a very awkward one."
"You do seem to be one of those whom the winds of Heaven should not visit too roughly," said Mr. Evan. "What, rising already? Harriet is in a great hurry to dissolve the house to-night. Will you sit next me to-morrow?"
Margaret was the last person to give a favourable answer to so bold a request. She gathered together her gloves and her handkerchief in silence, and followed the ladies into the drawing-room.
"Well, what do you think of Evan?" asked Harriet eagerly, as soon as she could reach Margaret.
"I think him very clever, but I could not get rid of the impression that he was laughing at me."
Harriet fell on an ottoman in a burst of merriment.
"Dear, little innocent; laughing at you, depend on it men never laugh at any thing so pretty. Miss Lydia Pottinger, don't you think my friend here the prettiest woman in Somersetshire."
The young lady thus appealed to, would much rather have been burned than have allowed such a truth. She was not generous enough even to think Margaret pretty, much less to say so; therefore, after a little cough, which Harriet watched with much amusement, she exclaimed with great naivetè: