To tell you that I am fast falling over head and ears in love with this adorable creature, will be only to tell you what my description must have betrayed. To tell you that she seems no less inclined to follow my example will be more like news. We generally ride together; we sing duets, and our voices harmonize charmingly; in a word, young Lufton has begun to joke me about her.
Unfortunately my visit draws to a close, and unless I can make a tolerably deep impression before I leave, she will have forgotten me by next season. She is only sixteen; but to look at her you would say she was twenty; and to talk to her you would say, much more. She is one of the precocious, and has been bred up in a queer way. Adieu! We shall meet at the club next week.
P.S.—I open this to tell you that they will not part with me here, and that I have promised to remain till the shooting begins, though I told them I had no longer any pleasure in shooting. But I was too happy for any excuse to remain under the same roof with the enchanting Violet.
CHAPTER IV.
CECIL EXHIBITS HIMSELF.
The three letters, just given, will save me a great deal of explanation and description and, as the horses are at the door, we have no time to waste.
Mrs. Langley Turner, Sir Harry Johnstone, young Lufton, Cecil, and Violet are preparing to ride out, and afterwards to lunch at the Grange.
Cecil rode remarkably well, and was proud of it; besides, he looked handsomer on horseback, as then his head and bust were seen to full advantage, of which he was also aware; and Violet, who had of late been accustomed to follow the hounds, and spend the greater part of every day on horseback, looked upon him with fresh admiration, as she marked the graceful mastery of his bearing. With a more than womanly contempt for effeminate men, she had at first imagined Cecil one, from the delicacy and dapperness she noticed in him. But finding that he was an excellent shot with the rifle, that he even excelled her with pistols, that he fenced well, and rode boldly, she gave him her esteem,—and was nearly giving him her heart; but that was not gone as yet. She was charmed with Cecil's manner—she admired him, and saw his admiration for her; but she loved him not as yet, however fast she might be galloping on the road to it.
Off they started, Shot barking and leaping up at the nose of his playfellow, Violet's bay mare, Jessy, while a sedater hound trotted slowly behind. Mrs. Langley Turner, Sir Harry, and Lufton rode abreast, discussing the proposition which had just been started, of getting up private theatricals at the hall. Violet and Cecil followed, talking of favourite books and favourite composers, comparing sentiments, and looking into each other's handsome faces, suffused with the bright flush of excitement.
"Here we are at the Grange," said Violet, as they cantered within sight of the lodge gates.