Is he that modern wonder, a good man, besides ?" Her meditations were interrupted by the entrance of Rose, looking very charming in a tight jacket and long black riding-skirt, a "jockey hat and feather" on her curly head, and flourishing her riding-whip in her gauntleted hand.
"I thought you were out, Kate, with your little Scotchman," she said, slapping her gaiter.

"I saw him mount and ride off nearly an hour ago." "I have been in my room." "I wish Doctor Frank would come," said Rose.

"I like some one to make love to me when I ride." "Doctor Frank does not make love to you." "Does he not?
How do you know ?" "My prophetic soul tells me, and what is more, never will.

All the better for Doctor Frank, since you would not accept him or his love if he offered them." "And how do you know that?
I must own I thought him a prig at first, and if I begin to find him delightful now, I suppose it is merely by force of contrast with your black-browed, deadly-dull baronet.

Will you come?
No?
Well, then, adieu, and _au revoir_." Kate watched her mount and gallop down the avenue, kissing her hand as she disappeared.
"My pretty Rose," she thought, smiling, "she is only a spoiled child; one cannot be angry, let her say what she will." Out beyond the gates, Rose's canter changed to a rapid gallop.