We shook hands, Laura moaning all the while, and they went home.

Frank and Laura had been engaged three years. He was about thirty, and
was still too poor to marry.

Wednesday proved pleasant. We had an early dinner, and our cavalcade
started from Laura's. I rode my small bay horse Folly, a gift from my
absentee brother. His coat was sleeker than satin; his ears moved
perpetually, and his wide nostrils were always in a quiver. He was not
entirely safe, for now and then he jumped unexpectedly; but I had
ridden him a year without accident, and felt enough acquainted with him
not to be afraid.

Redmond eyed him.

"You are a bold rider," he said.

"No," I answered,--"a careful one. Look at the bit, and my whip, too. I
cut his hind legs when he jumps. Observe that I do not wear a long
skirt. I can slip off the saddle, if need be, without danger."

"That's all very well; but his eyes are vicious; he will serve you a
trick some day."

"When he does, I'll sell him for a cart-horse."

Laura and Redmond rode Jones's horses. Harry Lothrop was mounted on his
horse Black, a superb, thick-maned creature, with a cluster of white
stars on one of his shoulders. Maurice rode a wall-eyed pony. Our