"Come, come, do not look like a methodist parson, while we are wasting all the sunshine. I have half a mind to gallop off by myself, and make the neighbours stare. Come, Selina, do go and get your habit, for I see Henry is determined to make Mabel a Guy—for the old hat is only fit for a bonfire. I did intend being charitable with it, on the last fifth of November, but I forgot it luckily."
Thus urged, Selina at length retreated to find her habit, which, when produced, was found to be in very good condition. But Maria's description of the hat had been more truthful, for the dust of repeated house-cleanings seemed to have settled on its unlucky beaver; and Maria, having climbed up to reach it from its peg in the hall, threw it down in disgust, raising a cloud of dust which threatened to soil her new habit.
Hargrave, however, who was now entirely restored to good humour, seized it as it fell, and began brushing it with great vigour.
As he did so, the door bell rang, and, before he had time to retreat, Mr. Stokes entered, whip in hand.
"Just in time, I hope, Colonel," he cried, "if I may be allowed to join your party—a ride—why it is the very thing—I see four side-saddles, and I am sure you cannot monopolise four ladies—may I go?"
Hargrave being in a compliant mood, replied gaily—
"You are welcome, I am sure—for I shall be glad to be relieved of half the burden. Ladies are troublesome creatures—particularly this one. Here, Maria, the hat will not hurt you now—run off with it—and try and persuade Miss Lesly to wear it, if you can."
"It has raised dust enough to make you doubt it, certainly," she replied, running gaily up-stairs, with her habit tucked over her arm.
There was some little difficulty to find Mabel, however, for she was gone to her own room, and no one was anxious to climb up to the top of the house to fetch her. At length, however, by dint of loud calls at the bottom of the stairs, she was made to know she was wanted.