"The Hunt is my Bluebeard's chamber. But I will not unlock the door and suffer, as Mrs. Bluebeard had nearly done. You may risk your necks and steeds if you choose, and, provided you return unharmed, you shall come and tell me of your hairbreadth 'scapes and gallant doings in pursuit of a miserable fox. I can listen without envy, and Aunt Ellicott shall lift up her hands in horror, and lecture you roundly for joining such a barbarous crew as go to make up the Hollingsby Hunt."
Thus much for the past, as explaining the present mood in which Miss Mountford found herself.
As the carriage rolled on, Kathleen saw many a rider in black or scarlet, with snowy buckskins and shining spurs, on the way to the meet. Humbler riders there were, who made no brave show, either in person or dress, but whose horses, viewed by a judge, would have been deemed likely to hold their own through a long day's sport.
Vehicles of all sorts were carrying spectators, and it was quite impossible not to be pleased at the sight of trim huntsmen and merry faces.
All at once Kathleen's cheeks flushed crimson, as a pair of riders came abreast of the carriage. The elder of the two, Captain Torrance, would have liked Mountain to stop his horses, but the coachman was obstinately blind to his signal, and, if anything, increased the speed, to Kathleen's hardly-veiled annoyance. The girl could not suggest a pause. At the first glimpse of Captain Torrance, Mrs. Ellicott had become absorbed in the prospect at the opposite side of the way.
Kathleen could only return the salute of the rider, who bared and bent his handsome head, until it nearly touched the saddle.
Captain Jack, as he was usually called, was not disconcerted. He was quite contented with the sight of Mrs. Ellicott's bonnet-crown only. By her turning away she had enabled him to look Kathleen full in the face with undisguised admiration. He quickly noted the flush of pleasure which overspread it when he approached.
"Ignore me as you like, old lady," he said to himself, "so long as your fair ward's face lights up when I come near, and its expression is so eloquent, I care not which way your head is turned, or whether you smile or frown at Jack. Torrance. Come on, Ralph, or we shall be late," he said aloud, addressing a handsome, boyish imitation of himself, suitably mounted.
The little fellow looked gleefully at his father, and urged his pony on. It was a spirited little thing, and, like its youthful rider, had chafed at the momentary slackening of speed, when abreast of Miss Mountford's carriage, so away went the pair of riders at a rapid pace.
Captain Torrance was a widower with this one boy of nine years. Parent and child were almost inseparable, the child being taken everywhere that it was possible for him to go with his father.