was a loud knocking at the door and the voice of the old Butler
exclaiming, "Master Arthur, master Arthur, Miss Edith desires me to say
that she is going to ride over to the Willows this bright morning and
wishes to know if you would like to accompany her; she is now on the
lawn."

"Thank you, thank you, Reynolds. My compliments to Miss Effingham, and
say I shall be most happy to be her escort on the occasion," and
hurriedly dressing, was soon by her side, laughing and chatting merrily
as they cantered over the green turf on their way to the Bartons. Yet
Arthur could not altogether dispel the feelings that arose within him,
produced, doubtless, by the strange dreams that haunted his pillow
during the night, or early that morning.

"Is not that Tom Barton?" said Edith, pointing to the figure of a man,
dressed in sporting costume, seated on the step of a stile, engaged in
lighting a small German pipe, his gun leaning against one of the
uprights and some half dozen partridges lying on the grass at his feet.
As they rode up, Tom advanced to meet them, raised his hat politely to
Edith, and shouted out, "Hallo Arthur, old fellow, how are you. Glad to
have you back amongst us; not much fun in tramping through the turnip
fields alone, although the birds are by no means scarce this season."

"Thank you, I intend to be amongst them, and together, I think we can
do some execution. How are the ladies at the Willows? And is pretty
little Cousin Kate as capricious as ever?" And here Carlton gave his
friend a poke in the ribs with his riding whip.

Edith laughed heartily at the sallie; for his attachment to the lady in
question was no secret to her. Tom parried his friend's enquiries as