The Baronet's Bride Part 16

"I say, Kingsland, who's that girl on the splendid roan? She sits superbly, and is stunningly handsome besides. I beg your pardon, Lady Louise--perhaps you know."

"Lord Ernest Strathmore is excited on the subject. That young lady is Miss Harriet Hunsden. Don't lose your head, my lord. One gentleman possesses that heart, and all the rest of you may sigh in vain."

"Indeed! And who is the fortunate possessor?"

"Captain Hunsden, her father."

At the first mention of her name Sir Everard Kingsland had turned sharply around and beheld--his fate. But he did not know it. He only saw a handsome, spirited-looking girl, sitting a magnificent roan horse as easily as if it had been an arm-chair, and talking animatedly to a stalwart soldierly man with white hair and mustache.

As he glanced away from his prolonged stare he met the piercing gaze of Lady Louise's turquoise-blue eyes.

"_Et tu, Brute_?" she cried gayly. "Oh, my prophetic soul! Did I not warn you, Sir Everard? Did I not foretell that the dashing damsel in the scarlet habit would play the mischief with your fox-hunting hearts?

No, no! never deny the soft impeachment! But I tell you, as I told Lord Ernest, it is of no use. She is but seventeen, and 'ower young to marry yet.'"

Before Sir Everard could retort, the cry of "Here they come!"

proclaimed the arrival of the hounds.

The hounds were put into the gorse, and the red-coats began to move out of the field into the lane, Sir Everard and Lady Louise with them.

A loud "Halloo!" rang through the air; the hounds came with a rushing roar over a fence.

"There he is!" cried a chorus of voices, as the fox flew over the ground.

And at the same instant Whirlwind tore by like its namesake, with the handsome girl upright as a dart. Away went Sir Galahad, side by side with the roan. Lady Louise and her sedate nag were left hopelessly behind.

On and on like the wind Whirlwind flew the fences, and Miss Hunsden sat in her saddle like a queen on her throne.

The young baronet, even in the fierce heat of the hunt, could see the beautiful glowing face, the flashing gray eyes, and the lances of light flickering in the gold-brown hair. Side by side Sir Galahad and Whirlwind darted to the end of the fourth inclosure.

Then came a change--a wall of black, heavy thorn rose ahead, which no one was mad enough to face.

The baronet pulled his bay violently to the right and looked to see the dashing huntress follow. But, no; the blood of Miss Hunsden and the "red-roan steed" was up, and straight they went at that awful pace.

"For G.o.d's sake, Miss Hunsden!" cried the voice of Lord Ernest Strathmore, "don't try that!"

But he might as well have spoken to the cataract of Niagara. With a tremendous rush Whirlwind charged the place. There was a horrible crash--another--and a plunge downward.

Sir Everard turned sick with horror; but Whirlwind settled into his stride, and the girl recovered her balance in the very instant, and away again like the wind.

"Splendidly done, by Jove!" cried Lord Ernest. "I never saw a lady ride before like that in all my life."

Sir Everard dashed on. His horse was on his mettle; but, do what he would, the slender, girlish figure, and superb roan kept ahead.

Whirlwind took hedges and ditches before him, disdaining to turn to the right or left, and after a sharp run of an hour, Miss Hunsden had the glory and happiness of being one of the few up at the finish in time to see the fox, quite dead, held over the huntsman's head, with the hounds hanging expectant around.

Every eye turned upon the heroine of the hour, and loud were the canticles chanted in her honor. The master of the hounds himself rode up, all aglow with admiration.

"Miss Hunsden," he said, "I never in all my life saw a lady ride as you rode to-day. There are not half a dozen men in Devonshire who would have faced those fences as you did. I sincerely hope you will frequently honor our field by your presence and matchless riding."

Miss Hunsden bowed easily and smiled.

And then her father came up, his soldierly old face aglow.

"Harrie, my dear, I am proud of you! You led us all to-day. I wouldn't have taken that nasty place myself, and I didn't believe even Whirlwind could do it."

Then George Grosvenor and Lord Ernest and the rest of the men crowded around, and compliments poured in in a deluge.

Sir Everard held himself aloof--disgusted, nauseated--or so he told himself.

"Such an unwomanly exhibition! Such a daring, masculine leap! And see how she sits and smiles on those empty-headed fox-hunters, like an Amazonian queen in her court! How different from Lady Louise! And yet! good heavens! how royally beautiful she is!"

"Alone, Kingsland?" exclaimed a voice at his elbow; and glancing around he saw Lord Carteret. "What do you think of our pretty Di Vernon? You don't often see a lady ride like that. Why don't you pay your respects? Don't know her, eh? Come alone; I'll present you."

Sir Everard's heart gave a sudden plunge, quite unaccountably. Without a word he rode up to where the gray-eyed enchantress held her magic circle.

"Harrie, my dear," said the elderly n.o.bleman, "I bring a worshiper who hovers aloof and gazes in speechless admiration. Let me present my young friend, Sir Everard Kingsland, Miss Hunsden."

Sir Everard took off his hat, and bent to his saddle-bow.

"Sir Everard Kingsland!" cried Captain Hunsden, cordially. "Son of my old friend, Sir Jasper, I'll be sworn! My dear boy, how are you? I knew your father well. We were at Rugby together, and sworn companions. Harrie, this is the son of my oldest friend."

"Papa's friends are all mine!"

The voice was clear and sweet as the beaming eyes. She held out her hand with a frank grace, and Sir Everard took it, its light touch thrilling to the core of his heart.

Sir Everard Kingsland rode back to Carteret Park beside the Indian officer and his daughter as a man might ride in a trance. Surely within an hour the whole world had been changed! He rode on air instead of solid soil, and the sunshine of heaven was not half so brilliant as Harriet Hunsden's smile.

"Confess now, Sir Everard," she said, "you were shocked and scandalized. I saw it in your face. Oh, don't deny it, and don't tell polite fibs! I always shock people, and rather enjoy it than otherwise."

"Harriet!" her father said, reprovingly. "She is a spoiled madcap, Sir Everard, and I am afraid the fault is mine. She has been everywhere with me in her seventeen years of life--freezing amid the snows of Canada and grilling alive under the broiling sun of India. And the result is--what you see."

"The result is--perfection!"

"Papa," Miss Hunsden said, turning her sparkling face to her father, "for Sir Everard's sake, pray change the subject. If you talk of me, he will feel in duty bound to pay compliments; and really, after such a fast run, it is too much to expect of any man. There! I see Lady Louise across the brook yonder. I will leave you gentlemen to cultivate one another. _Allons, messieurs_!"

One fleeting, backward glance of the bewitching face, a saucy smile and a wave of the hand, and Whirlwind had leaped across the brook and ambled on beside the sober charger of Lady Louise.

"Every one has been talking of your riding, Miss Hunsden," Lady Louise said. "I am nearly beside myself with envy. Lord Ernest Strathmore says you are the most graceful equestrienne he ever saw."

"His lordship is very good. I wish I could return the compliment, but his chestnut balked shamefully, and came home dead beat!"

Lord Ernest was within hearing distance of the clear, girlish voice, but he only laughed good-naturedly.

"As you are strong, be merciful, Miss Hunsden. We can't all perform miracles on horseback, you know. I came an awful cropper at that ugly hedge, to be sure, and your red horse went over me like a blaze of lightning! You owe me some atonement, and--of course you are going to the ball to-night?"

"Of course! I like b.a.l.l.s even better than hunting."

"And she dances better than she rides," put in her father, coming up.

"She is perfection in everything she undertakes, I am certain," Lord Ernest said, "and for that atonement I speak of, Miss Hunsden, I claim the first waltz."